Sunday, March 21, 2010

Jungle Monkeys

It is a monkey
a monkey with a veil,
and when I finally manage to grasp
just a little piece of white lace,
I catch a look in the mirror.
There is a gasp,
coming from someplace within.

A wide face, hair covering my cheeks,
black beady eyes stare back, blinking every so often.
There is hair,
coarse brown hair
both above and below the veneer of pink skin

I have seen otherwise
all this time.
Looking through the haze
of human,
and different,
and other.

But in these eyes
I see an animal,
a machine,
eat, sleep, and breed

There is nothing else.
No desire beyond the obvious,
No emotion
beyond empty gestures
and thin words.

This is me, it took a sleepless night to see.

It took all my life.
It took the allies.
It took a gentle hand to discover what I was

What I have been
What I am
What I will continue to be.

I am not now, what I could be.

moving through dark space,
arriving at clusters of exploding stars,
Talking to beings with no mouths and eyes.
And we talk, and they share, and we merge,
Dancing as one fleck of light

Dancers among millions
on the dark stage of the universe.

The body is gone
The concerns of the body
The worries of the monkey

Sleep scratch

It is all gone
Discarded with the old skin
that lays like a crumpled laundry bag.
And now I travel
I reach for a hand in the darkness,
Finding light

I am not now, what I could be.

I am still chained to the circus tent.
I perform my tricks
I ride a red bicycle
Circle after circle
Decade after decade
Lifetime after lifetime
I like my dress
with tiny blue polka dots
I like my bed,
My sleep, my endless state

I am a monkey
And I see my reflection
sitting in the park
with a sandwich,
In the sports car
Waiting for a bus
Walking on a sidewalk
millions like me
in a forgotten human jungle,
in a place that lacks vines and trees,
but I can hear the shrieks,
if I look
with just the right eyes.

We are not what we could be.
What we could be
What we could be
What we yearn to be
What we yearn to be

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