We only have earned the certificate,
Not the gown or robe,
Not the hat, or those shining shoes.
We have only become 4 years older,
Donkey years wiser, and I realize now,
I was a dreaming scientist on my high school yearbook,
And I still am, a plant molecular biologist,
And donning that graduation hat,
And getting a teddy bear, was the whole part of the deal.
But what was really thrilling was,
Who you graduated with.
The hodgepodge of colors, hair types, wardrobes,
That came together, and threw their
Hats in the air, learning that we had wings
Now, to tinker with DNA, those
Bodies, which like women, are full of
Curves and bend at will.

And you’re that expert now,
Wise enough to know, nature
Can be tweaked, like that blue rose,
Or the AIDS-resistant man,
Or for that matter, rice the size of corn,
And I’m that tinkerer, my certificate
Says so. Four years it took,
To know that saliva contains DNA,
And a kiss is dirty with Herpes,
And love, is just a hormone, oxytocin,
That makes you all gooey,
And when they all come together,
You have the fundamentality of being.

Life is not full of surprises, you find
Out the hard way, how your resume,
Has one more sentence now,
A sentence that puts you further,
By four years, telling you, you are now ahead of most,
And still life will not give you,
Genies in a bottle, only rosary beads at night,
And a black suit that gets worn,
Over and over, that it slowly turns it into
Your favorite, when you realize,
That even being unemployed,
Gets you your own uniform.

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