Lily Jarman-Reisch
Quantum’s Complaint
A runt
in a dark neighbourhood
few visit,
a lifer in the Shawshank
of quantum gravity,
entangled with trillions
of my kind, never
knowing my place,
my worth in the grand cycle
until
another black hole hoovers
me over its event-horizon
shrinking me to a nullity
too tiny for space and time,
suddenly distinctive
after a lifetime in limbo,
a singularity,
my one chance
to belly through a wormhole
to freedom,
revel in the rain of redemption
until
I’m spat out yet again
by the next big bang
back to the slammer,
pining before a pin-up
for the tunnel beyond.