Frank

It had been a long day for the man they called Frank,

He just got off work from his job at the bank.

He was tired and hungry - his stomach yearned food,

He wanted to make something quick, but still good.

Instant noodles, he thought, should greatly suffice,

And if it was bland, he’d add sugar or spice.

So he opened a can and added some water,

Put it in the microwave, and hoped it got hotter.

But when he came back, he saw something incredible,

And to his dismay, what he found was inedible.

He expected to find his chicken soup in a bowl,

Instead Frank had somehow made a black hole.

Its gamma rays tweaking and cycling about,

Its vortex, not unlike a funnel or spout.

He dare not touch it, less he become anti-matter,

So he gazed as its spiral got darker and fatter.

Frank couldn’t help notice: it had an odd spin to it.

And as he peered closer, his tie was sucked into it.

Genuine silk. Cost one-hundred bucks.

He groaned a deep sigh and said “Huh... well that sucks.”

So he banged on the side and began to demand it.

“C’mon, black hole! Give it back, dammit!”

As he did this, he noticed space-time did bend.

His arm was sucked in. Then Frank. That’s the end.