Too Much Love

published 'Terrible Work' 1994

The white holes, black holes, solid masses, black masses that allot the universes to their various realities – between such vastnesses and the single mother in a single house upon a solitary Earth with an only child, there are smaller spaces that can be envisaged through a pin-hole.

She scatters tin-tacks and drawing-pins upon her lap, a peppering, a pricking-out, points pointed to all points of the compass – and she lovingly lingers awaiting her only child’s loving lunge amid her loving limbs...

Who hurt whom? Such a question is as pointless as asking why, eventually, even holes grow grey.

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