stdClass Object
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    [ID] => 21566
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2021-04-12 08:06:20
    [post_date_gmt] => 2021-04-12 08:06:20
    [post_content] => https://youtu.be/fnZdFWAp2HY

Glass tank in a biology classroom; I count the centipedes. See? Hundreds of subtle, creeping things,

life’s sediment, seldom stirred. Quantification is human nature; three celery-green eyes encircle the wrist of a fairy tale witch. A trio of centaurs, lamenting

in triolet form. A census. I count centipedes in the biology classroom; time scuttles past on many brown legs, hiding under rocks and leaves. Would it take centuries to crack open the

earth, like a walnut or an almond? After all, we perform so many modern miracles. Spin me a simulation of gravity. Step into the blank white centre and

bring me emptiness, that stills the compass needle. Let me hear its vegetable snap.

[post_title] => Centriole [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => closed [ping_status] => closed [post_password] => [post_name] => centriole [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2021-04-15 14:23:02 [post_modified_gmt] => 2021-04-15 14:23:02 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=21566 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => poems [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw [meta_data] => stdClass Object ( [wpcf-published-in] => [wpcf-date-published] => 2021 [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the first-prize winner of the Human Cell Atlas challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021. [wpcf-rights-information] => [wpcf-poem-award] => 1st prize, Human Cell Atlas challenge [wpcf_pr_belongs] => ) [poet_data] => stdClass Object ( [ID] => 21567 [forename] => [surname] => [title] => Anna Bailey [slug] => anna-bailey [content] => Anna is the first-prize winner in the Human Cell Atlas challenge on Young Poets Network. ) )
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    [ID] => 21567
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Anna Bailey
    [slug] => anna-bailey
    [content] => Anna is the first-prize winner in the Human Cell Atlas challenge on Young Poets Network.
)

Centriole

Anna Bailey

Glass tank in a biology
classroom; I count the centipedes.
See? Hundreds of subtle, creeping things,

life’s sediment, seldom stirred. Quantification is
human nature; three celery-green eyes encircle the
wrist of a fairy tale witch. A trio of centaurs, lamenting

in triolet form. A census. I count centipedes in the biology
classroom; time scuttles past on many brown legs, hiding under
rocks and leaves. Would it take centuries to crack open the

earth, like a walnut or an almond? After all, we perform
so many modern miracles. Spin me a simulation of
gravity. Step into the blank white centre and

bring me emptiness, that stills the
compass needle. Let me hear
its vegetable snap.