Timothy Morton opens his recent book Dark Ecology with a section entitled “Beginning after the End.” This paradoxical notion poignantly captures the challenges inherent in imagining a future on a planet in ecological peril. “What is dark ecology?” Timothy Morton asks. “It is ecological awareness, dark-depressing. Yet ecological awareness is also dark-uncanny.” The “dark-uncanny” is not the terminal stage of this ecology: “[W]e are going to try,” he offers, “to get to the third darkness, the sweet one, through the second darkness, the uncanny one.” The weirdness of ecological awareness and responsibility, the immense and irreversible destruction that has already taken place can perhaps be more successfully approached through art, which is “thought from the future,” and so perhaps more equipped to think “[t]his future [which] is unthinkable.”“How thought longs to twist and turn like the serpent poetry!” Morton hints at the specificity of poetry as particularly capable of thinking the unthinkable through verbal twists and turns and a subversion of linguistic commonplaces. In doing so, poetry profoundly alters how we see, what we see, and how we relate our being to both visible and invisible processes.