Black hole in my china cup,
You swirl round in vortices;
Rising, falling, twirling up,
You mind me no notices!
In your twirling eye, black
As pitch, I see me in a café;
Sitting up and sitting back,
Stirring black-hole coffee
But my mind too is whirling
In a cupped universe; swirling
Relative to the dark, I go around
Time and come spinning round
One other seminal white hole
In which my poems swirl up,
Pirouetting toeless as they troll
In a pit holed up in a china cup
Sucking all the I into a vortex
Of nothingness! White hole!
In manifold spirals of the cortex,
Drink me up; spew poems whole!
Notes for Poetry in an Espresso
This poem examines the poet’s creative process by comparing the turmoil within him to the imagined turmoil within a black hole. Though no one knows what lies within the infinitely dense void of a black hole, physicists speculate that it has an opposite, a white hole which spews out matter. Some physicists think that a white hole in the past may travel through time to become a black hole in the future. The poet and his readers need not concern themselves about the ‘connection’ through time. Suffice to say that the connection is an analogy for this poet’s creative process.
Vortices: swirling mass (of coffee)
Seminal: creative (of seeds or semen; hence a metaphor for being creative)
Manifold//cortex: layered parts or folds of the brain
This poem is part of the Poetry Book Arrow of Time