Got the Whole World in His Hands

Tyrants are exemplary
Of what anyone might do
Given opportunity.

Clearly, collecting the world
Matters greatly to humans.
For a wandering species,

It’s remarkable how strong
This urge is for collection,
This Noah’s Ark obsession.

Tyrants love zoos and gardens,
From the Bronze Age to today,
And while some were emperors,

The habit crops up with kings,
Mob bosses, entrepreneurs,
Chieftains, and celebrities.

Near Namibia’s border
With Angola, a villa
For one wealthy local man

Had its own combination
Of arboretum and zoo
Arranged around swimming pools,

Miniature replica
Of ancient hanging gardens,
Of the gardens of Huangdi,

Echoing larger efforts
Of rulers, lords, and big shots—
Michael Jackson, Escobar,

Ivanishvili—the list
Is almost endless, endless
Actually, in the sense

That the list is still growing.
What’s the point of collecting
These artificial kingdoms,

These planets in bounded parks
Maintained by massive effort,
Mostly gone in a lifespan?

One or two of everything,
The disparate juxtaposed
To bridge the missing middles,

A fantasy enacted
As elaborate display
Over and over again—

There are many other ways
To display your wealth and power—
Many ways, many taken.

But each ark suggests
Some lust for solipsism,
Whole world you wrap yourself in.