Thursday, April 11, 2019

a black h
O
le pulls the universe,
trying,

stretching its arms,
crying to eat the wh
O
le;

like a tree
it has shape:
its arms are branches,

its gr
O
ping hands are leaves,

everything it has ever eaten
O
ver time

has found the trunk—

its (ca ta clys mic) es
O
phagus,

^past^the^teeth^
O
f^its^event^
h
O
   riz
O
n and
  t
    h
  e
c
    h
  e
   w
i         ng
      s
   w
i
 rl
i         ng
O
 rb
i
  t   s
O
  f
i
  t   s
m
O
ut
    h,
     the belly is
      a gr eater
       m( . )nd
        th I an
         m^ne
          :  a
            .
          s p
           O
          t ! :
        w    h
    ere        its
          a^e
           *r*
    <>O<>O<>
        ><ts><
> <       ?       > <
            :n
            Ow f
            Olding s
            O that all wh
            Oles are
            One
            1
            .