Bwana

In the jungle on my howdah,
thinking of a clammy chowder;
while the beaters’ drums grew louder on their own.

Down below the brown Zambezi
and my lovely Portugesee,
laughing when I called her “Easy” on the phone.

In the ocean, on an island
looking at the coast of Thailand,
as I shed a tear for dry land and a home.

Seeking out the marsupalia
in The Outback of Australia;
longing for the sweet mammalia I had known.

In those years did I get older,
all my trophies getting colder;
now a clam rake on my shoulder in the foam.