The Nation of the Glorious Turnip

Not with the usual fare though, it is slightly less expensive.

While Bob was standing in the footsteps of time he made a few black holes. This poem tells the last few moments of an exploratory expedition that was sent out to investigate a star...

Crossing Hellespont into the nebulae
Not the colours of bristly dire
But the abrupt!
Absence of light greets us
Tranquil space, not a star in sight
All energetic repulsion far and away
Darkness pulls us over the horizon
Into an event of massive proportion
Where only Hawking can escape.