April Nineteenth

In college
I wrote a story for class
Speculative Fiction
I wrote about a woman
Who worked in a
Cloning facility
The sun dangerously strong
Through treated windows
Civil Rights
On the brink
Security checks
Parking far away
Inside an empty garage
Indicative of her status
She grew & harvested
Babies
She tinkered
With their brains
So that they would
Never grow
Beyond autonomic
Functions
Fiction-- okay
By a girl who knows
Shit
About neuroscience
And I-- that girl--
Pro-Choice
Childless
Wrote about
Fetuses in glass vats
And the woman
Does her job
Tra la la
Tending and testing
And
Terminating
And
Transferring
Little thoughtless "Vessels"
To different parts of
The facility
There were images I never shared
In the story
Vessels of every age
Clones
Why quit smoking?
When you can afford to grow
A new lung
A new heart
Hell-- just keep a whole set
On hand
Something that is your blood type
Your everything
There. Asleep.
No other purpose but to
Be there for you
To be an extra You
They are getting up
They are walking around
Sleep walking
Searching
For themselves
I never wrote how they were
Searching for themselves
I just wrote
About that woman
And that one vat
The Vessel
With fluttering eyelids
Dreaming
It was maybe a week later
That Dolly
Hit the news
The first cloned mammal
I put the story away
And now here we are
We might be able
To have cells on hand
From which to clone
Organs or... whatever
We are closer now
If you can afford it
You can get a new heart
Brand new
Made of you
It will beat
As you go
Searching for yourself