happen in the laboratory?
Beneath one lamp by day
and billions by night?
Poured from one beaker to another,
shaken in retorts,
observed by something more than an eye,
each one individually
taken by forceps?
The transformations occur on their own
in accordance with a plan.
The needle draws
the expected zigzags.
The control monitors are seldom switched on,
except when there's a war, and a rather big one at that,
several flights over the lump of clay called Earth,
or significant movements from point A to point B.
they only have a taste for episodes.
Look! a little girl on a big screen
is sewing a button to her sleeve.
personnel come running in.
Oh, what sort of tiny creature
with a little heart beating on the inside!
What graceful dignity
in the way she draws the thread!
Someone calls out in rapture:
Tell the Boss,
and let him come see for himself!