Size / / /

My great-uncle makes even cosmology


He takes the Dark Matter as a euphemism,

calls it Nigra Matter,

skulking and shuffling around

where it can't be found

when needed

undermining the rules of a

well-ordered universe.

He relates it to the substantia nigra

nestled in his brain

interfering with his mood

and what he wants to do.

Secretly he is appalled that

miscegenation over the ages has

let the substantia nigra in

to all of us, hopes that

careful breeding will eventually

weed it out—

just as he is appalled at

the state of the Cosmos

which was doing fine until

those Jews and Poles,

Kepler, Copernicus, Einstein,

got hold of it;

knows that it's just one

more damn thing his kind

will have to straighten out;

sees that eons will be needed

discipline, right-thinking, adherence to rules

until at long last

the clarity and precision

of the crystalline spheres

is restored.

We have not even approached

the stars, but already

his hatred is among them.

Bio to come.
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