4. Turing

I know not since when
I haven't eaten;
Not slept, nor wept,
Nor smiled.

I remember being cleansed
First with feminine hormones,
Then by cyanide,
So that I may be cast
Into an iconic God in granite,
Upon a park-side bench -
Gazing steadily into Enigma
Trying to appear erudite
With Newton's falling apple in my palm
Or was it Snow white's?