In the Lab After Work

It is unloosed!

A microorganism, once

captive, deflecting light.

That crafty impulse

avoiding truth.

Little virus, evil isotope—

fugitive from the microscope

evading diagnosis

as I am

eluding you. Eyes

Spiral your design, flowering

round the edge of the Petri dish:

necklace of streptococci,

stray beads of staph.

I spot you: a molecule of thought.

Now it is gone,

losing itself in my brain

encased by a meningitis

of mind. You have infected a life,

and all writing of me is by us.