To be clear, nature is everything not human, Or whatever about humans is unconscious, non-artificial, The organic, so to speak, The way we are Definite article: the person in the trees would be As this dude in a city Of course, That way, The ideal vision The back and forth Can be illuminated By what must be For civilization can be no other way Than what mother-father-universe-god-thing Designed; In other words, genes and all-but-nurture, Made to see in a certain light, Blind to the ultra- and under-violets It just is that way, Even as it overuses itself, The courseway is the river of life And the ocean is death According to all science and history No need to think about it Unless you've hit your toe on a rock And while the broken pinky heals You sit and see the stars and the ants And reconsider both your confidence And your trust in the natural whatever Basting in a world that can't cook Feasting senses that no one made