Stuff Cam Wrote

You keep asking me
The wrong guy, might I add
What it is you said
Without even sparing the thought
That he’s worried of slipping into
your event horizon
While the rest of us drift around your
smoldering accretion disk
Haunted by your orphans
Our simple minds still wrestling
with the non-Euclidean qualia
of how you curve spacetime
Gobbling up the fading light
of his frozen youthful face
as he falls into you
Now much smaller than your Schwartzchild radius
where he will appear
for timeless eternity
My spaghettified brother
A blazing new microwave source
Baffling scientists for generations to come