In the Jungle

Squishy squishy mud
how wet you would be
light brown and so murky

How easily one falls
misses a step
at that turning when morals
make a left
then dragging those legs
lose yourself in gloom
consider not running
for off the path you stand
having lost the directions so soon
the maps torn in half
when the bald man, at you,
made a pass
bumping and grinding
pushed into a bush
squshy squishy mud
how very wet you would be
light brown and so murky

and then the foot sinks lower
ah groans the earth
and nothing else stirs
no mush to gush over
no clothes to tear apart
no arrow to practice darts
no sky and no moon
no stars and balloons
just falling
backwards and forward
forward and soon
all tangled up forever
or as long as lasts ever
maybe getting up once
with salt on the tongue
and sometimes burning lungs
its all just rum
squishy squishy mud
how very wet you would be
light brown and so murky