Jun 18
Sterile Surfaces
June 18th, 2008 by christopher barnes · No Comments
Away from the lab-bench’s proving ground
The naked eye’s lame.
The moon’s heart
In an impulse swirls.
Triple-check – it’s far off,
Wide of the mark
Of swabbed feelings.
If the love-gene’s spliced
There’ll be a syringe
In the throat,
A hitch to swallow
Like fish-scaled GM apples
Or the troublesome underbreath
Of Dolly, the sheep.
