By Richard Mather
A disease of blood and spirit in a Petri dish,
of skin and brain and bone,
scrutinized and magnified under glass. I am
subjected, recoiling
from the next poke of a pen from a long arm
in a white coat, a hypothetical
to be proved or rejected
under the testing
conditions of this, my life,
your mad laboratory –
I am subjected; a subject is what I am.
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