Art in the lab

Hard life in they lab
Where hard materials and soft dreams
are tested
I don’t feel I deserve
Your pastel smiles and encouragement
When my data are a Pollock
And my protocol a rollercoaster.
Be there and keep quiet
To watch the show.

Control travel

I contract my muscles
Crunching over control
Of little Excel cells and tiny data points.
The scenario they picture
Is the natural reality
Or the translation of my expectations?
With a joyful papercup of Black tea in my hand
And a backpack of numbers and theories,
I travel through unseen possibilities and questions that hide treasure doors.

Night protein party

The illusion of organization
Is fooling us
On our benches, in our offices,
In our freezer.
The uncontrollable magic happens
When the light is switched off and the drawer closed.
Our proteins in their tubes
Initiate the revolution
Out of our sight, behind our back
And subvert the order we imposed
To samples supposed to respond to our command
And follow our hypotheses.
The geometric rationally organized drawer
Is each night the land of anarchy
And the cause of headaches and endless hunts
In the morning.