Perhaps there is one poem in Ko Un’s collection, Flowers of a Moment, that both an evolutionary anthropology student and a South Dakota horseman can enjoy:
We can never again speed
on four legs
over those plains
and ridges where the mist has cleared
Ah, the curse of homo erectus
No rhyme, no meter, but it strikes home for me…it’s how I feel each time I overlook the Missouri, headed west.