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The Jungle

The Jungle

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Published by: Thomas L. Holderfield on Dec 23, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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THE JUNGLEGrime was part of life down here.Down in the jungle, mildew and rainwas the main part of your life.It flowed in and out of you,became all of your pain.The other was forgottenlike some stale corner of toast.You lived here on the coastalways on the wet edge.Holding onto your warm beer.living through sorrow and strife.Never anything new,just rain and rain and more rainuntil all was besotten.On those rare, blessed dayswhen the Sun did peek through,when those feeble rayslicked up and down the wet trees,you sank to your kneesin mud and in rottenrefuse after days ofrain, rain, rainas you tried to walkdownhill to the train.The train that coud take you out of the rain,out of the coastal jungleinto the light.The blessed light.You went to light up a stickbut soaked to the core they were.So, you brought out the whiskeyand guzzled some down.Then the rain came backas you got near the town.So much rain it made you sick.It rained harder nowas if mad at the Sun.The rain had soaked even the air,it ran off your nose into theriver of mud in the street.The real river had long sinceoverflowed its muddy banksand carried the town'slesser abodes down to the trackswhere they piled up in to each otherand swirled in the floodand sank in the mud.The train was delayedby the rain, rain, rain, rain.So, you turned back aroundand trudged up the mountain of mud,

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