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Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Jungle Honey


I go through honey pretty quickly. I put it in tea, on toast, on pancakes. Then my brother got me twenty-one pounds of honey for Christmas.

Do you know how much honey that is? He spent a whole day looking for a glass jar with a top big enough.

I opened it up on Christmas morning, and I thought he had given me motor oil. That much honey in that big a jar looks awful dark. What is in it? I asked him.

"It's honey. It's not plain ordinary honey" he said. "This here's jungle honey. That's why it's so dark. This honey's gathered by giant bees in the jungles of South America. It comes from jungle mountains covered with profuse wet jungle blossoms. This honey's wild. This honey isn't clover honey. It's jungle honey."

I thought ah well. Honey's honey.

I had a hell of a time getting it back to New York. My arm aches when I think of the blocks I walked carrying that darn jar. I was a greedy privileged bear with his own private supply. I had so much sweetness on me I was cheating the world. What am I going to do with all this honey? I asked myself.

Well today I ran out of Golden Blossom. So I opened up the twenty-one pound jar and siphoned off some jungle honey into my little honey jar and ran my tongue around the edge before putting the top back on.

This was no ordinary clover. This was rhubarb root purple violet rock jungle blossom red peacock feather strutting tree of mountain gold frogs chirping "aurelius" "aurelius" and red jaw-banded brown purple snakes crawling worm-like in the dry high sky high branches of the blue-green hanging sphagnum, higher and higher where the sun shines brighter stinging like lilac rustle of wings humming and stinging and pea bark peeling and cloud moisture forming. This was banks of river water blossoms pelting carpet upwards the vertical paths of noisy jungle silence. This was the nectar of the very Amazon herself, the queen of one-breasted warrior woman had given me this through my brother and it was from between her legs and she was quivering as I slurped away in old New York spreading her on tea and toast and pancakes. This was emulsified heart wax-protecting honey. This was clitoris-mad orificial sacrifice drippings extracted from a thousand million hot South American Bleeding Heart Voodoo pussy flowers all screaming to give me their sweetness. This was green Acacia flower sap. This was dream fluid, reality poison. This was curare, jaguar spittle and fer-de-lance piss. This was black hole soil juice and Peru top melt-water combined. This was dangerous stuff.

Yet I wanted more. This was continent red-russet. This was warble-tongued shrikes shrieking 'hi-mama hi-mama' and green pussy lingers darting and screaming "Giuseppe" "Giuseppe". This was cunt-seltzer. This was cricket-scratch saw-legs spider web tangle-eating death and mystery netting macro/micro aphrodisiac-al madness bliss. This was heaven, from the Earth Goddess of all jungle slits bleeding profusely into my teacup.

[photo: John Sullivan]

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