Art collage by Anne Hart.
Genetic Drift: A rift in the shift
Genetic drift has caused a rift in my shift.
We're temporary containers and strand strainers.
So together let's map our clades in shades of grades.
You Neolithic farmer, you.
How dare the twenty-six percent of you
Pinch my Paleolithic peace proportionally,
Reducing my six-foot height with your polished grain,
To five-feet; turning my whippet-wiry O-negative blood
Into your barley-thickened A or AB positive agglutinated sludge?
How dare you expand from your lion-wracked pedestals
Planting my beech forests with your carbs?
A mitochondrial cluster adding luster?
And your speech, so Nostratic, it's Demotic.
Adding more haplotypes, what a demic diffusion.
My diet of salmon and berries produces less insulin
Than your pot-belly forming candy infusion. Can I keep my own menu, please, you eaters of cheese?