Black Hole by Charles Burns
A picture of a white slit. A picture of two bones tied together at a 120º angle. A picture of a broken bottle. A picture of a rip in the skin? A picture of the moon. A picture of a slit in a foot. A picture of a marijuana bud. A picture of a sharpened stick. A picture of a half-eaten burger. A picture of a tab of acid between two strips of tape. A picture of a sprinkling of stars. A picture of two thorny twigs intertwined to make a slit shape. A picture of a broken double popsicle. A picture of a tiny-toothed mouth (sideways slit). A picture of a picture of Rob. A picture of sperm cells swarming around a giant egg. A picture of a friend chicken leg. A picture of an orange. A picture of a flaming slit. The End.
"Is it a mirror? Just a crack at first . . . a thin sliver of light. . . . and then it spreads, opens up. I don't understand. Why does it have to be like this? Why do I have to go through all of this shit?"
One hemisphere composed of an orange, a pipe shaped like a compact skeleton, shreds of paper, bits of bone, a length of rope or some segments of worm, a tail or a vine, a bottle cap, dried leaves, a book of matches, a bag of weed, a twig or two, a broken bottle. Another hemisphere composed of the moon, a cigarette, a picture of Rob, twigs and leaves, shards of glass, a bone with a bit of string tied around it, a baloney sandwich with one bite missing, a frog, a handgun. Our galaxy is a slit and a spiral at the same time.