It’s not that I don’t believe in a god, it’s just that I don’t
think there is a word, a vibration,
capable of signifying.
Imagine, human, that you have been
drifting like me
all these years
outside the orbit of any
And what if I told you
that sound does not exist here,
that prayers and curses both
are sucked into dark holes blacker
than your ideas of Hell.
It’s not that it’s frightening, here
without a god or point of reference.
Rather my thoughts have nowhere to go
but in, mimicking the collapse of a
sun, a solar system. There is tremendous
energy, creative and magnetic, in
collapse without a center.
Phillip Gregory Spotswood was born in Mobile, AL, into a family of nine children. Currently he resides in Tuscaloosa, AL, and graduated from the University of Alabama in May 2013 with a degree in English and Creative Writing. Recently he paid for a drifting astronaut to be tattooed on his left forearm, and senses that the image will forever haunt his work. He is addicted to running in the dark.