Sometimes
I want to bury my head
deep in the ground
with a little tube to the surface
to breath
and eat
and drink.
I would probably get antsy
(that's just how I am)
and want more than a tube.
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.
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