Diane Hine (25 July 1956)
A sci-fi sonnet
The human was immortal; problem solved.
He siphoned power from a black hole rim.
Gazillions of years lay ahead of him.
He’d need them as the Universe devolved.
He’d need to leave, before it got too cold
and find some other Multiversal limb
where time perhaps, flowed sideways on a whim.
The challenge was to cross a spacetime fold.
Thanks to his father’s pioneering work,
he’d live until this universe expired.
He revelled at the lifting of the curse
yet lately felt ambivalent desire.
The challenge was impossibly absurd.
At times, he almost wished he could retire.
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