Was this the singularity that launch'd a thousand redshifts,
And irradiated the boundless expanse of space?
Sweet Sagittarius, make me immortal with a kiss.
Her mass sucks forth my soul: see where it flies!
Come, A*, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for eternity is in these horizons,
And all is infinitesimal that is not Sagittarius A*.
I will be Genzel, and for love of thee,
Instead of Kepler, shall Fermi be sacked;
And I will measure with neighboring S2,
And prove thy central mass on my orbit;
Yea, I will debunk theories to the contrary,
And then return to Sgr A* for a kiss.
Thou art grander than the Orion Sun
Clad in the remnants of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than the x-ray flare
When it appear'd to hapless Chandra;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In humbling Scorpius's stingin' scales;
And none but thou shalt be my paramour!
Notes
For the past week, Christopher Marlowe’s The Face That Launch’d A Thousand Ships has been stuck in my head. What a beautiful piece of work, that in adaptation, deserves a subject just as grand and illustrious as Helen of Troy! With this in mind, I penned it for Sagittarius A*, the Galactic Center of the Milky Way. The starry-eyed sentiment of this poem is in no small part due to a new person in my love life. :)