From out of a jungle
I stand at a balcony
of world dominance
overlooking the lush forest
that makes the very power we all seek
in the form of money,
which the three-toed Sloth has no need for
as he smiles up at me,
along with the Howler
as they occupy the trees below
and we awkwardly stand
above the fauna and flora
overlooking the Pacific
where a wave can be seen
breaking just where the sky
meets the sea
and as it proceeds
I contemplate
whether to bring more paper
knowing they might cut more trees
and that either way
the Sloth and the Howler
may unfortunately lose.

I contemplate
whether to come again
and support the change
or to turn around
go home,
forget what we saw,
never tell a soul,
and hope they don't find out
even though I fear
the tidal wave is already on its way.