I think it's tricky to write a poem about science and selfishness. It's tricky because there aren't that many people that have thought about how selfish a human body can be, scientifically. Joy Manesiotis apparently did. And not just her selfishness, even that little embryo guy, trying to grab on to her uterine wall. Who does he think he is? She has her own identity to deal with here, embryo. Can't you be a little sensitive? Just a little bit?
This poem, "Small," in the Spring 2009 issue of
Colorado Review, is quite a feat. I want to call it a scientific lyric, but not in that "fractal poetry" kind of scientificism (I'm sure Ms. Fulton wouldn't say hers is scientific, more mathematic), more like scientific as the type of language and perspective at thet poet's disposal.
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Colorado Review (
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They Sing to Her Bones