There he is,
King of his jungle,
All of the green, the branches,
Moss, log hideout, stones and pool
He’s bright yellow,
Not gold but he still stands out
With marks on his back like dry leaves
And a long, sinuous body
Quetzalcoatl is his name,
Or Zalli for short,
He’s the maker of man,
And the god of the sky
His names means “feathered snake”,
But he’s not feathered,
Just scaly and a foot long,
With an appetite for pinkies
Yes,
I thought that might surprise you,
A jungle king with no taste for man flesh?
How strange, how fortunate.
Even so, he’s king of his jungle, Zalli is
A big tank full of plastic greenery
The thing that waters him hourly
It’s his jungle, and he’s happy in it.
