Going to Bolivia

I cut myself a two-foot switch from some tropical

hardwood nearby

And the sounds of a carnival drifted miraculously through

the air from a thousand miles away

The monkeys jumped from tree to tree, it sent a deathly

chill through me

In Bolivia

Wildcats I had never seen claimed places in my room

Animal noises rang through the thick brush like voices

from the tomb

I saw the freshly polished chrome gleaming in the midday

sun

And I knew that you were coming home to Bolivia