Chocolate grip

The noise of these data is killing me

One dot at the time,

Shooting on the blank space.

Lack of order and lack of grip

On this rushing days

Condense in chocolate abuse.

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Holidays

Your pipettes are still smoking

And your notes on scrap paper

When the holidays arrive.

A feeling of incomplete and guilt descends

While you leave the long concrete corridor.

your mind rushes

to plan and refine elegant experiments

Not to waste time

While your bikini awaits you.

Artificial office

Offices should be green
And not show the man-made concrete walls.
Science is asked be sustainable and bio-inspired
As its innovation.
In my structured artificial office no nature
I can imagine
And no physiology is sustained
Enough to start the process
To produce new ideas
Friendly to all.