Tarzan, King of the Apes
TARZAN, KING OF THE APES
(Or, I’ve Never Told Anyone)
I’ve never told anyone
he was my best friend
and we used to swing
out over a cliff near the river
holding onto a vine
so thick you had to use
both hands.
It was our secret
place where we used to
drink a beer, smoke
a joint, pretend
we were Tarzan, King
of the Apes. The drop
was at least fifty feet,
but we were too young
to be scared of falling.
I’ve never told anyone
the day he fell his hands
did not slip nor were we so drunk
or stoned he accidentally let go.
I’ve never told anyone we had had a fight
that when he came swinging back
I stuck out my foot and kicked
him in the stomach.
I’ve never told anyone
about the fear in his eyes,
how he reached
for the pain, let go of the vine
as it swung back out over the cliff.
I never blamed myself. He knew the vine
was thick, that it required two
hands.
I’ve never told anyone
he was my best friend
that after the fall I spent
hours swinging back and forth
out over the cliff. I held on
with both hands.
I am Tarzan, King of the Apes.
Copyrighted
August 1, 2011
Jim Brewer
Copyright © Jim Brewer | Year Posted 2011
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