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      April 3, 2016Letter to a TardigradeE.E. Lampman

      If you have a secret
      keep it. Let Mars crawl
      with shadows of krill,
       
      the moon keep her diamonds
      in silver sand; let Pluto
      disappear as she’d like
       
      into the anonymous black
      curtain at the edge of our imagination.
      We’ve only begun to hear
       
      space collapsing; fish rise
      vigor in their gills, water world
      croon at dusk and dawn; whale songs
       
      bent in question, rhythm, notions
      of finding; and elephants
      mourning groans into the dust
       
      of calves’ bones—these wonders
      are enough for us now. Be careful,
      Waterbear, with your wisdom.
       
      Where you have leaned on neighbors’
      cells, borrowed strengths
      and forged a genome more home
       
      in the universe than our concept
      of the soul, we have fallen
      against each other with hook
       
      and stone. Leave us with these limits
      please. It is enough that we are
      orange and cut down
       
      by the ill power of lead. Enough that we’ve
      corroded half the sky with our breath.
      Is it enough that we save ourselves
       
      by tampering? Tooling genes into self-
      detonating bombs? Mosquito, mosquito,
      your offspring are the hatching dead. And ours
       
      safe in the unsafe bodies of women,
      protected for a moment by sentiment
      and the memory of the one space
       
      we’ve all known. Rumbling in utero with
      song and air—as tiny cells we entered
      your world swimming, warm with bacteria,
       
      unsterile, thriving pulse by
      shimmering pulse in blood.
      Spare us truth, even survival.
       
      Just give us enough time
      to hear lyrics howled through
      the black hole of your mouth.

      from Poets Respond

      E.E. Lampman

      “In order to defend against the spreading Zika virus, researchers have engineered male mosquitos with a gene which self-destructs their offspring before they can spread the virus. Of course, the Zika virus is a dangerous epidemic and my deepest condolences go out to all those affected, but my skepticism cannot be stifled. Would we be so concerned about the effects of the Zika virus if it was just affecting, say, women, and not their newborns? Is it ethically questionable that we can program a species to self-destruct? This poem is also fueled by other stories of research including: Discovery of the source of a deep ocean hum occurring when fish either signal migration to each other or fart as the gasses in their bodies adjust to the pressures of sea depths. The decoding of whale and elephant songs by acoustic biologist, Katy Payne. Horizontal Gene Transfer (HGT) of the tardigrade resulting in an astonishing percentage of borrowed genetic material in the abominable species. Massive rates of incarceration in the United States. And, of course, the sad story of Pluto losing her status as a planet.”

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