The Phytohormone Book, Toronto

(after In the Microscope by Miroslav Holub)

His microscope's axial rays
improvingly unpink.

A biology-white eyeball
sparkles above the lens.

The dimple-hug, spidery green
at the soft couch of an imported tomato
becomes a follow-the-tally-ho cascade
to the floor.

Birdsong, an atomising splatter.

Click beak,
his tongue salts.

17th storey window breeze,
he tips a lower fruit, snap.

Manipulating up-spurt,
ammonium compounds
from a sun-and-dust growbag.

Look ahead past lunch:
knife, plate, breadcrumbs.

Seeds, flung as a parting shot
for red-eyed vireos
who chutney them back
to the Land Of Many Rivers
tossing unstoppable magic
again, um tiddley um dum, again.