I was there.
All those animals. The habitat.
I was not scared.
An adventure unfurling...
Baboon crosswalks, ursine pageantry,
sauroid surveillance...
and the pièce de résistance...
Leonine Moonwalk
That which I was denied... a safari cut short,
the tropical Logos abrogated...
the faunal guide for me to defy gravity...
...impeded.
“For chrissakes, you’re cryin’ over not getting to jumpy-jump on some lion-shaped inflatable trampoline thingy... Why are you acting like a six-year-old..?”
“Because that’s what I am...”
I walk through that tunnel crying, not in fear of the lord of the jungle, but with frustration at the petty fettering in the communion with man’s construct of Mother Nature as intended for six-year-olds.
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