Always the Last Place You Look

Spent a week
Traipsing across
America’s wonderland
Of geysers
Boiling mud and
Nearly imaginable dinosaurs
Inside a colossal cauldron
Still steaming from
The last eruption

Searching for my
Method of communion
With all manner of
Sharp toothed beasties
And their game

Finally found
The wild kingdom
Eluding me on the trail
In a family restaurant
On the park’s perimeter
The entire
Rocky Mountain arc
Safely stuffed
Matted or framed
Sterile and forever
Frozen in striking poses
Staged to somehow
Lessen the humility
Of being placed on
Permanent display
For this plague of apathetic
Disconnection

In truth
I felt more in touch
With those
Replacement marbles
Than the gawkers
They beheld