.Justice in this place seems to be defined by who can eat whom
Under the veneer of what some call civilization
Now I know how to fight to get what is mine
Given that we could just clearcut this place and set up something better
Looks like we are stuck in this humid hell at each other’s throats
Even as we all sing, “Welcome to the …”
Moss draped trees swung in the humid breeze
As Roger held his shotgun up to his shoulder
Ready to pull the trigger if one of those damn crocs showed back up
Silently he waded into the tepid waters a bit more.
He never saw the one come up from behind.