I would have surrendered my blood

to quench three tubes

twenty years ago

but the results

cost two thousand dollars
            a genetic test with surveillance

            warrants investment
I ran out of that clinic

taking my blood with me
The same test is now free

for them to infiltrate

my blood, to spy on its motives

to circulate as if normal  
The genetics panel

calls me in to relay the results,

I sit before Doctor J’s darting

eyes and Professor A

who remains standing

in a room conducive to grave

discussion with a tissue box

on standby 
Three nerve-racking genes

militarise my sinews and sheaths

LZTR1      NF2      SMARCB1

Doctor J reveres their mysterious ways

while Professor A calls them strategic

and insubordinate  
            Your internal topography is akin

            to that of monitored warfare
The Professor attempts a smile

meant to convey reassurance

while waiting for my acquiescence

for the deserters’ camp to settle

within my leg’s ravine
            You’re fortunate, we know

            where the landmines are laid
At night, in a neighbourhood of tendons

alleged to be at peace

LZTR1      scours for calcified twigs

NF2      sparks flame after flame

SMARCB1      gathers oxygen for flares

to burn

            till dawn 
I pretend to sleep

as nerves in foot, ankle and knee

are galvanised to revolt