A Prayer to King Kong

The feverish jungle, a bungalow binge,

And the apes of the valley delight.

Amassing their arson, the parsons all cringe 

As the napes of their necks feel the bite.

Oh holy banana, the manna of trees,

As the fleas seem to hop on along

Infighting, igniting the apes that are biting 

Those bees as they sing of King Kong.

A hundred feet tall is the wall of the men

And a sinful release of the spear

Escaping the bin of the hundred foot spin

Thus applying their lying with cheer.

"Ah-ooh-ah," goes an ape as the head of the shape 

Of the stone spear endangers its spark.

And some other dumb fool in his foolhardy drape

Absolutely 'ooh-ah's' his remark.

The natives are restless, confessions debate 

All the while the apes gather their dead.

Subordinate clause in the claws of their fate,

And a villager loses his head.

Removed from the neck as the bees start to check

Acclimating, debating design.

As a hive, they survive, a revival on deck

For they sing as they sting, "Apes are fine!"

A thousand or more in the chore of the sores

And the numbering, slumbering sloth 

Awakens to aid in displayed forest floors

As the bees and the fleas gel as broth.

The African sonnet of bees in the bonnet 

And apes on the Cape Horn of nine

Combine in the shrine of the mine blowing pine

As the fleas stop and drop kick the sign.

The sloth calls aloud in the crowd of the  shroud 

And a lion out of Zion appears.

The jungle's own king comes to cling; the bees sting 

As he strengthens the villagers' fears.

"Away with your play and your villainous way!

Now away, or I say you will die!"

The roar echoed more as the lion on display 

Offered each human there in his cry.

The apes and the fleas and the bees in the drape 

Of the canopy stopped, held in awe.

The sloth, on his knees, bowed and plowed the disease 

As the humans all fled what they saw.

"The law of the jungle, for all- even fungal- 

The growth underneath the dead leaves-

Must never be broken as these words are spoken

Alas, mother ape, now she grieves ...

The humans are fuming; a vengeance is blooming 

Until they destroy every land.

Avoid at all costs their ridiculous frost

For the winter lives on in their hand.

We all have united; the spirit delighted; 

And the forest exalts us in joy.

Now go on, safely roam; travel deep in our home

For the menace the humans employ 

Has been seen o'er and o'er in mischievous lore

And I doubt it will not take them long

To return to this place with a hate spilling face 

So we must all now pray to King Kong."

The feverish jungle, a bungalow's bray,

And the apes and the bees and the fleas

And the sloth, on their knees, join the lion as they please

And to King Kong they bow long and pray.