Intergenerational

Materialized by Lesh Karan on Thursday, December 21st 2023.

I read a study once. I cannot find it: I have searched and searched the internet. I know it exists in that deep-dark space, because I can recall it. It was about lab worms. Scientists had shone a light on a squirm with one hand, and pronged them with the other. The worms wound into tight coils. They looked like those mosquito repellents you burn. When baby worms hatched, all they needed was the light. Whether laser beam or spotlight, this is my instinct.

I read a study once. I cannot find it: I have searched and searched the internet. I know it exists in that deep-dark space, because I can recall it. It was about lab worms. Scientists had shone a light on a squirm with one hand, and pronged them with the other. The worms wound into tight coils. They looked like those mosquito repellents you burn. When baby worms hatched, all they needed was the light. Whether laser beam or spotlight, this is my instinct.

Lesh Karan is a poet and sometimes essayist. Her publications include Australian Poetry, Best of Australian Poems 2022, Cordite, Island, Mascara, Overland, Rabbit, and Strange Horizons, amongst others. In 2023, she won the Liquid Amber Poetry Prize and was shortlisted for the Judith Wright Poetry Prize. Lesh was born in Fiji and lives in Naarm/Melbourne, Australia, with her hubby and fur baby.