Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

What if?

This globe looms over
men ruling it at
whip-driven pace,
with I-don’t-care shrugs,
the glint of coins
feverish, pulsing,
turning full face
against our uneven lives.
How patient we are!

When we observe closely
-birds, mammals, mountains,
trees, rivers, oceans-
they look so human.
If they are all gone,
we cannot look at nothing.