Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

Nobody knew how it happened, yet there it was,
a gaping hole with torn, crinkled edges –
you couldn’t look up at the sky without seeing it.

There was no method of patching it up, or filling it in,
or softening it, no way to cope with the pain caused by
the merest upward glance to where, in the clearest blue,

the sun and the hole vied for attention.