The Human Genre Project

Chromosome Poem

This chromosomal Usual Suspects line:
Tentacle arms in I surrender pose;

Look closer, though: each is made of zips.
The microtubal slider is drawn down

Their lines sag open, yawn, and through
These smallest needle-eyes emerge

Men, elephants and whales; bulked biospheres:
A meta boa’s swallow in reverse.

This isn’t a surrender: they’ve all won.
The arms are up in celebration.

Adam Roberts