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+Title: "Megan and the Anopheles gambiæ"
+Status: Hidden
+
+I sing a tale of Science brought to bear upon the issues  
+Of our species' (so far!) sad existence as sacks of soggy tissues;  
+I hope to do it justice, although I'm no Carl Sagan.  
+The hero of our tale? An entomologist named Megan.  
+
+The twenty-teens, you see, were fraught  
+With justified hysteria;  
+Each year a million sentients fought, and lost,  
+To something called malaria.  
+They did not call it witchcraft,  
+Who with each cough and wheeze can see why  
+The evil had it carried by _Anopheles gambiæ_.  
+
+Now humans are habitual  
+About what they cannot stand:  
+The pagans had a ritual,  
+But Megan had a plan—  
+
+Keen to strive, achieve, contrive,  
+Retrieve reprieve for thee and thine,  
+Relief from grief in brief outlined:  
+A sieve to find the gene to drive  
+To leave their kind not seen alive,  
+Those 'skeeters breeding far and wide,  
+A snare of species genocide!  
+
+The God of our ancestors lived not up to the hype,  
+But might we refocus their zeal  
+To praise a goddess of a different type,  
+And a type with the power to heal?—  
+Wrapping up strings of genomic defeats,  
+Wielding clustered, regularly-interspaced  
+Short palindromic repeats.