Jungle Law

“How long before the pizza gets here?” she asks,
“45 minutes to an hour” I reply;

“Damn! that’s a long time, I’m hungry!
what are we gonna do until then?”

“We could have sex” I say,
“What else are you gonna do in Cleveland,
in the middle of winter?”
“Ha ha, very funny”;

so we watch TV instead.

I guess that’s the way it is when you get older,
there was a time when it wasn’t so,
but times have changed,
rules are being re-written,
everything is out the window,
take the news for example,
once we were the good guys,
talking about justice and fair play,
now it’s kill or be killed,
do it to them before they do it to us,
the ends justify the means,
anything goes in the name of national welfare,
only the strong survive,
jungle law in a world of dog eats dog;

I suppose desperate times demand that.

There is a knock on the door,
it’s the pizza guy,
I return to the bed triumphantly,
bringing home a freshly killed
pepperoni and sausage pizza,
survival in the brutal jungle,
feeling just like Tarzan;

“Me want woman” I say proudly;

“You’re so damn strange” she laughs,
“Feed me and you can have anything you like,”
smiling I think to myself;

maybe things haven’t changed that much.
.
.