Designed as tiny harmless pets
their escape from the genetic lab
was barely news worthy.
Cruising the concrete sidewalks
their miniature fins bobbing up
through cracks in the grey squares.
Hoping for a tired pigeon or dropped food
steering clear of leather soles
and running rubber cleats.
When death comes their tiny bodies
lose form and meaning
becoming part of a crumbling sidewalk.
You might see a round gray pebble
of an eye glint before it rolls over
to its rough concrete stomach.