Otherwise volatile substance, walks past in the rain
and how nearly we are human,
failing and uncontained, within new ways of looking.
What to call the genetic distance between us?
Sightings of the unwieldy zorse, the liger, the wholphin,
sometimes jaunty above their smiles.
Then there is the problem of touch, centuries
the nervous system transmits of spurious instructions
slights and channels, fraught and sniping
all dismissed with careful knife-work. If only we agree
on what we will call them: blind-sight, money
well spent. How uncomfortably close they come
each with their carefully constructed surfaces
we map with meaning. Mirrors like our children,
what will we call them…
and they, our children, what will they call us?
We Are Called
1 December 2011