Solo

by: Ben Gunsburg
Remember the Pleistocene Lake before it shrank
and stilled into this desert basin. Remember the fern-
fresh world all wet with sound. Before ribbon mic
and magnetic tape, a herd of pachyderms stomped
the continent, dropped heavy tracks—whole
albums—in permafrost. Then they went extinct.
What if one remained—paleolithic time-traveler,
copper hair draped over mammoth shanks.
He hasn’t loved a mate in ten thousand years.
He feeds on roots and leaves, closes his eyes,
blows “Extinction Blues.” So much living happens
through stubborn force and simple pleasure. Long
walk around an ancient lake. February sun sinking
on a silent heron. This ancestral self won’t die
when others stow their instruments and collapse
under the great Jacaranda tree of sleep. This one,
most gentle one raises trunk to smokey air, sings.
About the Author 
Ben Gunsberg’s poetry appears in Poetry Daily, DIAGRAM, and Mid-American Review, among other magazines. He is the author of the poetry collection Welcome, Dangerous Life and the chapbook Rhapsodies with Portraits. His writing has won awards from the University of Michigan Hopwood Center and the Utah Division of Arts and Museums. He lives in Logan, Utah, and teaches English at Utah State University, where he directs the Graduate Specialization in Creative Writing and moonlights as the multi-medium editor for Sugar House Review.

About the Producer 
Max Matzen teaches music at Utah State University and is an in-demand composer and performer in jazz and classical idioms. His compositions have been performed throughout the USA, Europe, and Japan. He is a member of the Emerald Brass Quintet and currently principal and section trumpet in the Utah Festival Opera.