Gnototheodic

Raised in a theological
Trexler isolation unit,
In which the outside world emerged
From the floor in pop-up hazmats

Cartoonish as Michelin men,
Puffy as animated clouds,
You were given to understand
You were inside what was outside

But not of it. Not out. Not of.
Negative pressure plastic film
Kept viruses from reaching you.
The idea was you’d grow a suit

Of your own you could wear outside,
Brave adult and solitary
In a world of infectious thoughts,
Immune in your armor of God.

This was necessary only
Since your job was to capture fresh
Candidates for isolation,
Bring them in for disinfection,

Let them raise fresh bubble children
Like you. But thoughts are dangerous.
Exotic ones pose a high risk
Of infection by aerosol

Transmissions. So you sprung a leak.
Micronotions slipped in for which
There are no known vaccinations,
And if you’re ever quarantined

Again, it won’t be to keep you
Safe from the alien outside,
But to keep you, the alien
Infection sealed off well within.