Those corn fields,
Those golden wheat fields
Those sodden rice paddies  
Those terraced gardens of tea
     Show me those vistas of my youth
why am I here in the jungle
I wanted the one where smells assailed my senses
     dank undergrowth ,
                                 fetid breath of feline,
Those jaguars and wild boars grunting
rooting where I came from
     And what do I get  
those cloying smells of humanity in close quarters
Rank garbage decomposing in the fetid sun
and the smells of arabis and frankincense and myrrh
     givenchy, poison, and allure  
Who is better and where is the jungle really
I want the stalking and the hunt
that bated breath before the capture
                                                      that rush I have    
but then I wonder
is it the room overlooking that forest of concrete
or the verdant one which gives That to Me
     jugulars are the same in both

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