from “At the End of the World”
You hardly ever hear about gophers in poems these days
as they stand above their dark holes
& scout about anxiously for their families beneath the marquee of the Gopher-Plex,
waiting to see the new documentary about a misanthropic gopher who has traveled to Antarctica
to show us both the pathos & the beauty in the absurd clash of gopher culture, science & nature on the world’s most inhospitable continent.
It was a good movie, though flawed, & left me wishing it had been distilled into a more perfect beauty, though where would the truth in that be?
Which is how I feel about this poem
about a misanthropic man who has traveled to New York City to show us both the pathos & beauty in the absurd clash of family, time & death in the world’s most inhospitable city
before he looks away from the bright, incomprehensible world
& returns to his dark hole.