A billion is a ponderous number
a solitary one
followed by ten—yes, ten!—
zeros, each an abyss of despair.
You need four commas just to write it down!
Four waystations to pause and wonder.
And not one in ten billion ever saw
a century and a quarter.
And you thought you could live for ever!
Ponder that butt in the gutter.
Its fate is your fate is my fate is our fate is their fate.
It’s not just in stars you find singularities.
© 2013 Slush Poet
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