A Sort of Ark

by Michael Swan

I’ve had enough of it,
with everything here
being evicted, poisoned,
cut down,
trapped, netted,
wiped out.
We’re off,
the lot of us,
through a wormhole
to somewhere better.
 
Well,
not strictly
a wormhole –
I’ve nothing against worms,
some of my best friends are worms,
but you can’t get a whale
through a wormhole.
 
And the great whales are coming,
believe me,
along with the Siberian tiger,
the red squirrel
the white rhino,
a moth
that no-one has ever heard of,
a marsupial antelope,
a very ugly kind of parrot,
that wonderful tree with buttresses
from Tasmania,
and all the others.
Before it’s too late.
 
All of us,
scooting off through the whalehole
next Tuesday,
 
Will you come?