Q
Falling towards an immense
black hole. Six flavours —
up, down, top, bottom,
strange & charm. To each
there is an antiparticle. It
is stale news, a tiny
relative of mushrooms.
View all poems by Mark Young
black hole. Six flavours —
up, down, top, bottom,
strange & charm. To each
there is an antiparticle. It
is stale news, a tiny
relative of mushrooms.
Mark Young
View all poems by Mark Young