The Jungle

In the desert, obstinate and drunk

A young explorer, naive I was

Self-assured with a brass revolver

blasting bullets at the Sun


Once I made it through the desert,

I not knew the gravity of what I’d done

Perhaps it was a loaded cactus

or whiskey skin cooked in the sun

but, impressed in my resilience

the desert kept its feather in my cap


As soon as I recovered, off I was again

To a land that would contain me

for forty days and forty nights

above a world only Gods may walk in


And once again I’d be forewarned

and once again I’d scoff their words

A young explorer, naive I was

drunk with the death I cheated once

impervious to the flying monsters

I sent new curses to the sun


What started in splendid ease

slicing through chop like salted butter

singing our songs to every moon

glittered by stars we’d never seen

impressioned us with a dare to dream


Before we’d know we knew too little,

before the rope could show its end

we struck a rock, and sank within


Rescued by our whisky barrels

Presumption kiboshed dire thoughts

we’d struck a rock, we were by land


Drifting to the yellow shore

we let the tide wash waft us in

We cracked our barrels for every drop

and kissed the sand for sights ahead


The beach’s coconuts cured our skin

We’d thought this illness due to sin

of our foolish wager against all odds

But with God’s wrath, we are to gain


And though not without perils,

as beasts within it roared to warn us

I’ve never seen a garden more green

or have senses dared such breadth

It’s hint enough we all must test

What secrets have this congested maze


So as I cork this empty bottle

and fate it with a world that spared me

I swallow my wish to reach your harbor

The jungle is the hot new thing



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