Project Jennifer

Jason's sister.
Shoulda known.
Wouldn't count. Could have grown
plants this summer but I didn't. Might've
saved some face but I didn't: YOU ARE MY
FACE, she said, in the sandy windy and exclaimed,
"You don't even need water, here!"
(She meant for bathing)

And it wasn't about Manganese nodules after all,
was it, Mr. Hersh? Not those little presents
of chemistry fresh and unsettling and intimately
slow though they grow... they are alive, as alive
as Russian submarines and Dan Marino's Id.
The bottom of the ocean, Mister Hughes.
The last place you would expect.