The theme this week for Jon’s JVG Radio Method on 3RRR is “JUNGLE”. This one was a good one. There are a lot of options with a theme like that.

Click to hear today’s poem… [audio:JVG_Poem20080706.mp3]

Ed Bates does the background guitar sounds this week, JVG does the silly jungle noises..


JUNGLE

Hey don’t blame me, I was the one who said it would end in tears
It always did when “Rabbit” McGorry had one of his great ideas

Remember – “Rabbit’s” Superman phase! we ended up half dead
Had us dressed in his mother’s leotards jumping off the roof of the shed

Or convinced he was Zorro he slashed a Z in Mrs Tyrrell’s Regency chair
Or when he tried to remove the cat’s appendix after watching Doctor Kildare

Here we were camped out in the jungle on the back of another whim
Cause “Rabbit” was watching too much TV and thought he was Jungle Jim

We had no skills to survive in the wild who knows how long we’d have lasted
But you’d rather risk death than say “no” to “Rabbit” he was such a persistent bastard

We set up camp around nightfall and set about gathering wood
We had no idea what was out there but were sure it was up to no good

The fire was a structural masterpiece, “Too good” said “Rabbit” “to light”
Given no-one had any matches, for once it seemed he was right

“So how do we cook” “Squirrel” demanded, a point “Spanner” quickly pursued
“Rabbit” replied it was all academic since no-one had brought any food

It was as cold and dank as a coal miner’s armpit, dark as a dung beetle’s belly
Even “Rabbit” appeared abnormally nervous; you could tell he was missing his Telly

No torch, no food and some very strange noises, the mood blended fear with dissent
Without a word being spoken we acted as one and quietly crawled into our tent

I say tent – but it was more like an oversized franger, drooped limply over our legs
All because “Rabbit”, the big Bwana forgot the poles and the pegs

The noise grew louder, something circled our tent, so close you could hear it breathe
We lay in silence, nobody moved, praying the monster would leave

Our nerve had deserted, then we were only six, not long out of the pram
Alone in the jungle, I begged God to save us, though I would have accepted Tarzan

The noise retreated but not so our fear, “Squirrel” the first one to crack
Said he was stepping outside for a slash — but we knew he wouldn’t be back

“Rabbit” was next – the great white hunter — he shrieked before swiftly departing
The King of the Jungle heard a growl and panicked, didn’t realise it was just “Spanner” farting

“Spanner” volunteered to search for the others he promised he wouldn’t be long
But an hour passed by — well at least 30 seconds and I knew, like the rest, he was gone

I screamed like a banshee as I leapt from the tent – if I’d stayed I was dead meat for sure
I dashed toward a light, footsteps behind me — and burst through the McGorry’s back door

There was “Rabbit” necking a bottle of Tarax , as always the perfect host
While Mrs McGorry plied “Squirrel” and “Spanner” with cheese and tomato on toast

Still shaking I threw back a large creamy soda and gave “Rabbit” the eye long and hard
“I swear” I assured him “That’s the very last time I camp out in your backyard”

Old man McGorry, grumpy as usual, and as usual hitting the grog
“Shut the bloody door boy, do you live in a tent? You’ll let in the bloody dog!”

© Copyright 2008 Ian Bland

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