The complex backstory ends
at my short relationship
with photosynthesis. I was okay
until they whipped out chloroplasts,
flowcharted ribosomes, peptides,
acronyms, numbers, shapes, and acids.
6CO2+6H2O→C6H12O6+6O2.
I copied it, stared at it, dissolved.
When I punctured the fetal pig’s
stomach — that’s when I decided
biology was not for me, took it
in college solely as requirement, made
the most of the words later. I imagine, now,
Chloro and Plast. Punny characters
eradicating racist graffiti on buildings.
In the story, they arrive absorbed
in purpose, prepared with plaster, paint,
and greenery, ready to rid the city
of maliciousness through mural making,
thriving designs germinated from negative space.
They dance while they work, xylem and phloem
immersed in motion, skillfully
swiping, erasing the slurs, equity and justice
becoming an act of art. It would make
a great kids’ book, wouldn’t it — these heroes
of tenacity and science? Inversion and creation? Of growth?
Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt, copyright June 21, 2024, all rights reserved
Posted in Katherine's Coffeehouse
