Eukaryote Blues

By Yvette A. Schnoeker-Shorb

 

I have savannah cells within me
and mitochondria swelled
with the workings of memory,
energy generating
trillions of searchlights
where postmodern senses fail,
dark chemical processes
attempting to bond
into an ecology of ancient kin;
it's hard to practice
the etiquette of evolution
when all I get are conceptual
promises of paradise
or, worse, transcendence.