Drunken Monkey Got No Kung Fu

[NO ANIMALS WERE INJURED IN THE WRITING OF THIS POEM.]

jungle nights, so very scary
creepy-crawlies, beasties hairy
caws, screeches, and echoed calls
no protection of moat or walls
just the thinnest nylon tent
then, an idea, heaven-sent

who can protect this fearful man?
thank you, Mr. Jackie Chan

grabbing up a pint of rum
for lack of sword or loaded gun
I proffered monkeys the kung fu elixir
they accepted on proviso of a cola mixer

high hopes were had for my simian guards
but a favorable outcome wasn’t in the cards
for monkeys make mean (and flatulent) drunks
bottle empty, they threw poo in splattery chunks
overturning a lantern, my tent burst alight
never bring flames to a poo-slinging fight
soon poo was catapulted, striking like the greek fire
and the whole jungle was in a situation dire

Mr. Chan, how could you do me so wrong?
cuba libres don’t make monkey kung fu strong
it just makes Arsonists of the Flaming Poo
a drunken monkey has got no kung fu!

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About B Gourley

Bernie Gourley is a writer living in Bangalore, India. He is currently writing his first novel entitled CHASING DEMONS. He is a martial artist, yogi, and world traveler.
This entry was posted in Flash-writing, Humor, micro-essay, Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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