Notes About The Poem
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EXISTENTIAL SQUIRREL
By late July,
the Texas squirrel has begun
questioning the architecture of the universe.
He sits on the fence,
tail wilted like a forgotten feather duster,
and watches the sun perform
its daily act of unreasonable brilliance.
He wonders
why any deity would design a world
where a creature with a fur coat
must endure temperatures
that make asphalt sweat.
He contemplates free will~
specifically his own decision
to move to Texas.
Was it destiny?
A cosmic joke?
A clerical error in the Book of Rodents?
He wanders the yard slowly,
as if each step is a meditation
on suffering,
identity,
and the location of the nearest shade.
At last he pauses,
gazes at the shimmering horizon,
and arrives at a revelation
worthy of a tiny Texas monk:
“Heat,” he declares,
“is the universe’s way
of reminding me
to get my life together.”
Then, after a long, solemn silence,
he adds,
“I have also concluded
that I cannot go to hell.
Texas has already shown me
the trailer.”
With this,
he nods wisely,
as if he has solved
one of the great mysteries of existence.
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