Kay Ryan

If you haven't discovered the poet Kay Ryan (poet laureate from 2006-2008, I think?) allow me to discover her for you:

From the collection, "The Best of It"

This Life

It's a pickle, this life.

Even shut down to a trickle

it carries every kind of particle

which causes strife on a grander scale:

to be miniature is to be swallowed

by a miniature whale. Zeno knew

the law that we know: no matter

how carefully diminished, a race

can only be half finished with success;

then comes the endless halving of the rest--

the ribbon's stalled approach, the helpless

red-faced urgings of the coach.

Blandeur

If it please God,
let less happen.
Even out Earth's
rondure, flatten
Eiger, blanden
the Grand Canyon.
Make valleys slightly higher,
widen fissures
to arable land,
remand your
terrible glaciers
and silence
their calving,
halving or doubling
all geographical features
toward the mean.
Unlean against our hearts.
Withdraw your grandeur
from these parts.

Easter Island

It worked withouth
a hitch: the last
big head rolled
down the last logs
to its niche.
As planned,
a long chorus
of monoliths
had replaced
the forest, staring
seaward, nicely
spaced, each with
a generous collar
of greensward,
and prepared to
stand so long
that it would be
a good trade: life,
for the thing made.