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The Hole in the Map - Lorraine Feather
Slightly below the Equator
Beneath a scalding sun
Waits a counterfeit paradise
And sure oblivion
Or so they told our hero
In 1925
As he went back to the river
That ate so many alive
It starts as a trickle in the clouds and snow
With more than an America still to go
Steamrollers into the sea
Wide as New York City
Passable only in the worst of the heat
In the winter it rises 40 feet
The green hell is a heady trap
So dont fall down
The hole in the map
Youd bet such a forest would feed you
You would lose that bet
You thought you learned about fortitude
As a gentleman cadet
The painful pranks the floggings
Were bliss compared to this
As you hack through the lianas
Where hanging boas hiss
There are bugs thatll kill you with a single bite
Turn your cotton britches to threads in a night
Homicidal gnats no bigger than seeds
Cynanide-squirting millipedes
Still you know you love it and you wont be swayed
Though you never are fully unafraid
Hits your heart like a thunderclap
So dont fall down
The hole in the map
Back in the comfort of Devon
You sweeten your tea and sigh
Free now to sleep till eleven
And watch the old world go by
You smile at your civilized heaven
And say that at last youll stay
But close by the gates
The Amazon waits
To quietly drag you away
Drag you away
Back to the river
Its passable only in the worst of the heat
In the winter it rises 40 feet
The green hell is a heady trap
Dont fall
There are bugs thatll kill you with a single bite
Turn your cotton britches to threads in a night
Homicidal gnats no bigger than seeds
Cynanide-squirting millipedes
