The Edge of the Universe

Gianna Carruth, Divine. Graphite, 2024.


By Jude Wood


Alone, I have been for a spectrum of time, 

A shade so dark, murderous and sublime. 

        I drift past shapes that curl and screech, 

        My form just barely out of reach. 

        Black holes act as cosmic bleach, 

But me, I’m doing fine. 


I’ve seen worse than death and greater than life. 

I’ve broken bonds stronger than man and wife, 

        Yet as I drift in silent sleep 

        I cannot help but sob and weep 

        For further still to the edge I creep 

I’m unfortunately alright. 


Forever I will walk this plane 

Of nothing, no sound, no sight, no pain. 

        I break the surface, the ice, the seal. 

        I escape the things I thought were real 

        And in the light all I feel 

Is the assurance that I’m a-okay. 


The edge of a universe, the end of space. 

All of nothing laughs in my face. 

        A swirl of starlight atop a throne, 

        The destruction of my only home, 

        My brain dissolves within my dome, 

A jovial disgrace. 


I dance across the tip of a knife, 

Stripped of what I called my life. 

        Living spirals, worlds of bone, 

        A twin I dare not call my own, 

        The ugly truth shamelessly shown, 

Hearts of liquid strife. 


I dine on embryonic caviar 

In a world that’s neither near nor far 

        With beings made of pure desire, 

        Rows of teeth and living fire, 

        Forests made of crimson wire, 

Madly in love with a star. 


The universe curls around the feet 

Of raging forces waiting to eat 

        Swallowing planets whole as they fall 

        Massacre beneath a disco ball 

        Visions that repulse and appall 

Puppets composed of meat. 


I watch as I approach a wall 

The galaxies begin to fall 

        Ravenous forms, anatomy abstract 

        A neck long broken, too slow to react 

        And as each star fades to black, 

My back is turned on it all.