Gene screeches halt movement
through the capillaries, tending
to favor inborn anomalies
that prefer to stride about
with a confidence normally reserved
for viruses, kicking over trash cans
as they go along, wishing
to preserve nothing and destroy
the fabric of existence
as most well-meaning individuals see it.
Blood-borne imps choose mischief
over guaranteed function, shutting down
arteries to play pick-up street hockey
and puncture whatever they please
in the process; bulls in china shops,
the lot of ’em.

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