Stitches in Zero Gravity

April is the month of dust

But then so is December and May

It’s all our eyes are speckled with

In both anguish and dismay

We are not meant to die here

Or so it has been said

We need a means to meet the ends

Before earthly souls are left dead

So who will find these loop holes

In the very fabric of time and space

Perhaps the marathon of life is over

We have lost the hopeless race

Yet, my father sees himself as a ray

Of light, guiding us to survival

He does not see the sad truth

That human beings are viral

Shall we be ejected into the galaxy

Ready like parasitic colonies

to make a home in black holes or

in the numbers of physics anomalies?

I see the professor’s equations in dusty chalk

There, an hour becomes a year or seven

The formulae are reliable yet

His mathematics predict no heaven

What awaits in interstellar stitches

Is not hope against our demise

It is simply where my father left to go

Leaving me here on earth

With a single promise

And a pack of lies.


*Based on Interstellar, this poem has been written from the perspective of Murphy Cooper, whose father leaves her on earth to travel into space in search of a new habitable planet as earth is nearing its planetary deterioration.


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