Cellular Sonnet/Sonnet in Prose


I'll never forget the time when that sperm
broke into the egg and I was made me.

Halcyon seconds egging on production           meiotic exertions done on the double
I was a little gamete game for anything           doubling nodes sounding off meiotically.

Made the most of cramped quarters               a new quartet of faces that came and went
maintained roots in spite of divisions            gametocytes breaking off into new camps

"ergo, ego, I go gig",  aleatory translations    but never nodding from physical labours                 
and I decided I should keep track of things   that warm interphase in my diary of seconds.


Those were the days all parts hustled and bustled and then nine months later I was born to grow up to earn a living listening to hundreds of international student’s first memories from the age of three to six of a father handing a toy to his three-year-old son in the hospital in Germany and just the blue of that shapeless toy remembered forever, (gibs means cast in German and cast in Japanese where they think it’s an English word) of a Japanese boy learning to read from hiragana written on his hands, a ne that looked like the smile of a cat, a neko, (Yasu is a boy’s name in Japan but in Korean it means beast) of a Korean boy’s tale of being taken at the age of six by his grandfather to one end of Seoul and left to return by subway on his own, (opa in Korean means older brother but in German it’s grandfather which in Arabic is Jed) a Saudi’s first beauty contest for camel’s and the fear of being under such lanky heights crying until he was comforted home, (where the English word cozy sounds like a Saudi rice dish with twelve spices), all stories to establish a similarity of starts, a past-tense lesson in an ESL classroom pulling up irregular verbs, reaching down into the cool dark to feel for the shapes of certain roots.


- Kevin Spenst