24. Continuity

I sought a fire and found a mountain.
I wanted hope and found a fountain.
And still the jungle calls.

I learned to breathe and lost my gills.
I tamed my spine and and lost my will.
And still the jungle calls.

I watched the light and entered hell,
requested grace, was given well.
And still the jungle calls.

The gift of wings and sight and joy,
the taste of Zeus's Ganymede boy.
And still the jungle calls.

I cleared old Coleridge's site
and built some towers of pure delight.
And still the jungle calls.

I turned the Buddha's mantras in
side out and fucked Blake's golden friend.
And still the jungle calls.

I dug and aired the secret roots
of Handel's eternally flowering shoots.
And still the jungle calls.

The candle burns, the night is calm,
cool pillows wait, the spirits' balm
descends and cools my twisting soul
and dips it in the Old Man's bowl
of broth that feeds beyond all pain
and makes me new, a child again.
And still the jungle calls.

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