Not that Brian
The one who lived next door
And was mistaken for, the Messiah
Our Brian is a Pongo
Similar to humans in many ways
Who had the misfortune
Of living next to human food production
He was orphaned, forsaken
Lets switch to his story
‘The Brian of Life’
Little Man of the too little forest
Clinging to his kind's name
Swinging as he is wont to do
Tarzan-like from tree to tree
Living in the treetops, born free
But as with all these stories
Sagas of the Tribe Endangered
Something has gone wrong
Or he wouldn’t be invited
To join this exclusive Tribe
Instinctively non-extinctive
But heading and helped along that way
By his catastrophe creating cousin
The Man Who Felled The Earth
Not just one, the species
The hungry collective
Insatiable appetites for sweet oily ‘food’
The treat in the palm of their hand
Oiled by the Palm grown on the land
Brian’s only home - homeland
Brian’s trees must be cleared away
For neat and orderly rows of production
Nothing can be grown in the chaos
Of the jungle, just oversized weeds
Choking the productive fields and hills
In the big scheme of human snacking
In one fell swoop Brian fell afoul
His home was felled with one hand
Taking his mother with it, down
But another hand, the helping kind
Lifted him out to safety and sanctuary
His life was saved but complicated
What’s a guy got to do
To catch a break!
It started well, a kind female adopted him
And in the love and company of his kind
He grew, and so did the Manhood of his Forest
In no time he would be searching for a mate
Kind Rosa raised him for some two years
From three to five years old
Showed him the jungle ropes
So to speak
But after she became a mother
Left to roam, leaving Brian alone
So he struck out on his own
And struck out when confronted
By the dominant male of the territory
Stood his tree bravely, didn’t back down
Narrowly avoiding being banged up by Bangkal
But his carers thought it prudent
To take their Orang student of forest life
To a different patch of forest
Strike two!
This time Brian maybe didn’t follow jungle lore
Might have stood up like before
But took a savage beating
You don’t call the local big guy Yokel
It’s Yoko, appellation ’Sir’
Battered, injured and bleeding
He was brought back in needing
Time out for treatment and healing
And processing his harsh lessons
Don’t venture into a dominant male’s range
Too cocky and haughty
Don’t fracas with him
Don’t even look sideways at his mates
Don’t talk back, but fallback
Find your own range
And therein lies his dilemma
Still critically endangered
Young Man of the Trees
As the trees are chainsawed down
Range options diminishing
Homeland dwindling
Life can be so harsh
For Brian of Life
Thanks to the kind hands
And watchful eyes
Of the Orangutan Foundation
His still has a sanctuary
A small patch to patrol
To live the life of Brian
Help the helping hands
To hold him dear
And keep him here
A. E. Lovell
ae4e.me/blog
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