was the metaphor—
transformation as
second nature.
But somewhere
along the line, we confused
a red delicious
with the furious counterpoint
of everyday experience;
we got duped
by a bugbear
with a sibilant attack
into trading in truth
for the magic
beans of facts.
We were ends
transmogrified solely
into means—
not by the licking tongues
of flaming swords, but
the little flicking tails
at the ends
on our genes.
