PS Cottier

Sucking in a sun a day,
my appetite is never sated.
My gut remains deeper and darker
than any Mariana Trench.
I stuff myself, gorge and cram,
but can never expel. Once in my jaws,
well, that’s it. Solar systems
are everyday entrées, mere moons
never elicit a burp. Creatures tiny,
creatures huge, on planets I eat,
I clench on them and chew.
I put the die in diet, the ease
in squeeze, but purest light
is my favourite meat.
I store a glowing disc of suns,
hot hors d’oeuvres or tapas,
awaiting my gourmand’s mouth.
Remember my sun-lust,
the tens of thousands of meals,
the gaping wolf of nevermore.
Enjoy the summer warmth,
the waves and sandy, beachy mirth.
Play that game of cricket.
But overs may be more limited
than players ever expected.
Any sudden burst of cold
may be my nugatory tongue,
about to end both grief and fun.

PS Cottier

Source: https://reporter.anu.edu.au/all-stories/monster-black-hole-devouring-one-sun-every-day

Recovering from two launches, I thought I’d post a new poem of a scientific sort, or at least one taking science as a jumping off point.