a found poem
from the Dec. 2018 National Geographic article by Hillary Rosner
Following elephant tracks,
piles of day-old gorilla dung,
bark that smells of garlic
scratched by elephant tusks.
Think Oreo filling,
premature deaths,
forced evictions
roughly the size of Colorado.
Swimming in an orderly line
without getting their boots dirty—
the monochrome is dizzying,
boycotting is unwise,
origins are opaque
and buried in streambeds.
Beef is flown in,
brightly colored jungle fruits,
bathtub palm wine,
breeding trees,
bone-jarring fertile flatland:
an elusive goal.
You could argue that way but you would be poor,
so just
sip whiskey
as lightning makes purple streaks
across the starry sky.
An avid lover of nature, place, and words, Anne Thomas is studying for a PhD in Plant Sciences at the University of Cambridge. She plans to become a professional ecologist while also writing her way through the world.
