
Ode to an analyte
Trickle through tubes, round tiny sample loops,
A flux so small, unseen, we have to trust,
That drip by nano-drop you’ll make it through,
And give a sign, preferably robust.
First, we’ll separate you from the mass,
With solvents arranged in a gradient.
We’ll measure twice, cut once, bombard with gas,
Then to the waste you’ll go, because you’re spent.
What do we seek, you must be wondering:
Your bonds, your bones, your connectivity.
Where are your weakest points, what makes you sing?
Are you of interest clinically?
To us, you will appear as mass to charge;
A mess of dips and peaks, a fingerprint.
But through the noise and brouhaha, at large,
It’s of your true nature we’ll glean a hint.
A sum of parts, no you are so much more,
And that is why we’re desperate to explore.

