Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

no matter how long you hack at the undergrowth
the jungle restores itself like a hydra
only this time it's pissed off
you've gotten its attention
the snakes writhe and twist
their teeth pointy and bared
it must be mollified, cajoled
and stroked like some
inbred doberman that lets you pet
then bites when you stop
I hate when they do that
they have soured me on the breed
but don't get me wrong
I'm not complaining about the weather
I can take the heat
the relative humidity stifles
but doesn't suffocate, shit
I bought into this mess from day one
and jackknifed from the trees to the savannah
carrying my baggage with me

alligator leather suitcases? lots of attitude here.

thanks westcoast.

I had similar ideas about Sin City jungle when I lived in Vegas, though from the other side, from the arid side of spectrum. No matter how many space-eating, resource-sucking, water-guzzling boxes you plant on the dry earth, it will reclaim them. The desert seems as amused as pissed; it has more patience than we do. Or maybe it was just me. Anyway, the first half of this write is vivid, unsettling...