by Nick Gisburne
Abandon your attempts to leave the tank,
Or suffer for your failure to comply.
Your body, still a standard bio-blank,
Will shrivel into nothingness and die.
Release is not an option at this stage.
Disposal of your carcass has begun.
Before you stepped inside the cloning cage,
You signed a full release. The deal is done.
The government provides genetic clones
To all the upper echelons of state,
But random chance and technical unknowns
Have modified your features, and your weight.
Mutated to Revulsion Factor Five,
Prime Minister, at least you are alive.
