“Woohooha, we’re monkey boys!”
We yelled.

Jumping up and
down
on the old tractor wagon.
Plucking banana shaped leaves
off the ancient tree out back.

The days were endless
in our magical ship
through the jungle.

Four years old and beaming
at our newly hoarded stash.

Then we became hungry,
racing inside for supper,
to escape the giant gorilla.

i don’t know whether
to root for my success
or court my failure.

bring relief and reminders
that life isn’t only about trying
to find words to describe our daily
travel through death defying
skull and cross-bone warning
creaky, dusty, burned out, deserted
hallways and rooms of old

its also about friends and family
and life outside outside our own
box.

but then the publishers write
and i get confused again

(today i got an email from lulu
saying they wanted to put our book
for sale up at amazon – weird)