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in my naievity I was quick to agree


In the final 40 minutes of The Theory of Everything, the movie about Steven Hawking’s life and achievements, I paused it 7 times in moments of inspiration to write 7 poems. I’ve decided not to edit any of these (spelling errors amok). As a relevant aside, in my high school philosophy class, I asserted that the concept of choice was nothing more than an illusion; 15 years later (a couple years ago) when I studied Hawking’s principle on black hole radiation and the mutability of the universe, it changed my mind. This is poem 4:

every found item and phenomenon is as ephemeral as everything once was and soon gone

I’m weary I am weak but there are still 7 days next week

as though an explanation rinses sanitation of dirty thoughts welling in my mind

since someone else told me I am sinful and my nature is disdainful and in my naievity I was quick to agree.

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