The Human Genre Project

The Real Life Application

They refer to you in classrooms up on the board
They trace the base pairs; flip the slides of splicing and dicing
They, ever so carelessly, tweak the sections of genes on their two dimensional page

In another world, our brain swells with gliomas.
We are a man starting his thirties, attractive in his prime
Dark rings around his eyes, ever since he surrendered his father to hospice last January
He’s scared that his wife will like their baby more than him
His first seizure was in the shower, early morning.
He drowned in the shallow puddle from a clogged drain

We're a tomboy a handful of variations later.
Her small intestine is riddled with holes
Like shortcuts to all her little pink organs.
Laying in the coffin, she’s wearing a white ruffled dress
Her mother spent three days locked in her room picking out that dress
Everyone was sure she was attempting suicide.

4 translocations. A widow diagnosed with leukemia.
She has no one and gets dressed during the week
Only for the grocery store and doctor's appointments.
She sweats at night, for no one to notice.
An extra translocation and she's crying on the phone to her doctor:
"Are you sure?" "The counts suggest a recovery…"

Daniele Talend