Urban Jungle

The sound of crickets are replaced by the bum
digging through the garbage bin outside in the ally.
Or the screaming of tires in the distance or the cars engine driving by my window like a tiger growling.
Ah the urban wilderness that echoes of new wild life,
The young hipsters yelling about a good time they had with the gal they just fucked.
The hum of neon humming like the birds in flight for nectar.
The night time sky replaced with a orangish glow that masks
The black panther of night and the fireflies that dance
In the thinning twilight.
There the coming of the morning and dew is dew
It's still wet, that never changes.
And the slow rise of that great gaseous ball
Burns my eyes till I dream of the green jungles of my youth.

Aug 24/11