Your Machete, Dr. Thompson

by zen_

Posted to Action Poetry on 2004-05-20 17:45:00

Parent message is 651308
It was through,
could’ve been
that very jungle, swarmed, flanked, bothered
by Natives,
searched
for the Lost, or buried City, of El Chichan
Itsa,
hmmm
long way through moss covered vines
swinging,
dangling
milk of Nature, hoarding all the gold
and sweat
juices.

Of courpse I’d be remiss
saying
nothing
of Shaman, and treating the anima mundi of the very rocks
carved
of
the designers of the King’s Tomb, and sepulchre
true
real
but these, rather the astronauts precursing
those
gods
extinct to the Egyptians.
These
Gods
taught their teachers how
to
add
fractions using only a
twenty,
and
thirteen.