Ode to the Nematode 

Invisible writhing gauze, a heavy dust 

of bioglitter across the landscapes and 

don’t forget the interiors too.

You’re everywhere, but for most people, 

you barely even exist. 

Brancusi curves and 

not much else, if we’re being honest with ourselves. 

You’re the back of my hand, Caenorhabditis elegans.

I know you better than I know myself.

I mapped

your bodycircuitry (down to the neuron, down to the atom even) and 

although you and I

we are not the same and 

although you are sand on the beach and I am a mountain and 

although you are a minimalist masterpiece and 

I am a Memphis Carlton room divider/storage unit/bookshelf/eyesore and 

although you cannot love, cannot think, I give you the love 

I so ardently think you deserve.