So Keats was Wrong
So Keats was wrong: a star is not so firm
Or steadfast as a lover’s sonnet yearns
For it to be. In fact, his urgent sperm
Was probably more loyal and his tears
For Fanny Brawne more strident than two bright,
Twin stars. Besides, some stars collide, explode,
Destroy themselves as suicidal blight
In supernova smithereens, implode
To denser darkness than a night without
The galaxies. The silence of blank holes
Is what their beams become. Some blossom out
Too suddenly and shrink to neutron coals.
..Our poet dies. He leaves behind Miss Brawne.
….Miss Fanny lives to take another’s spawn.