Jungle (an acrostic poem)

 

.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 …”

 

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Marsh (an acrostic poem)

 

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. 

 

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