The year of the poem is finished, now it is the year for the protocol! Read about the misadventures of a plant scientist trying to make sense of photorespiration one mutant at a time.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Old man
One day I will wrinkle like a linen suit my flesh will relax sag and shake when I move.
My bones will fold and snap like peanut brittle.
And my words will slur the corner of my mouth will pool with saliva.
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