T. R. Hummer is the author of numerous books of poetry and criticism, including Bluegrass Wasteland: Selected Poems (Arc Publications, 2005) and The Muse in the Machine: Essays on Poetry and the Anatomy of the Body Politic (University of Georgia Press, 2006). He teaches creative writing and literature at Arizona State University. Melancholia for Dummies T. R. Hummer The sun has exploded in a black sky, but the angel,         preoccupied by demons of his own devising, stares fixedly Into a middle distance only angels care about. Dürer         was onto something, but meditation is overrated. While the angel was tilting at mantras, his dog was fading.         Dear faithful Cosmo, he who had followed Through all the rings of Being and the ten thousand zones         of torment, he who never questioned The wisdom of flying, or cursing god, or dancing         on the heads of pins, old unquestioning creature Not nagging or asking why or where as he was dragged         by a leash of molten gold from torture to beatitude, Garden to comet, sin to blessing to devastation. Worn out         with his master’s infinite dissatisfied agitation, He closed his eyes. And you, winged genius of angst,         you want to know why you are thus blighted with despair? God takes his vengeance in obvious ways. Check out the doors         of your perception, asshole. Look around. Your dog is dead.