I was once a rose
but the years spent spun in a
nuclear centrifuge has filled
me with a rage,
a taproot tethered to an
experiment gone wrong.
Over the years, their pipettes punctured cells
to inject a serum, to replace these rose-petals
with a hunter’s heart.
Little did they know that all
the years I’d spent praying away this gay
would result in an unshackled mutant,
a hybrid with tendrils longer
than the strings they’d use to move me.
Now, they’re microscopic mad scientists
watching helplessly as I roam free
and charge through their barriers
possessed like Biollante.