Fun Monkey

The monkey is fun to talk to
when he hops off my back
to shoot the breeze
and chew the fat.
I cannot smoke the peace
pipe now, my tribe is at war
with the monkey; he doesn’t
care, he wants utter control.
He would just shrug at my death.
I like to make him laugh.
It makes my back slippery.
Eventually, he will slide
away and dissolve.
He will never die, but if
I can remember this awkward groping,
this disconnectedness,
this mortal fatalism,
I can use the emotions as a club
to keep him off of me.
But still, he’s fun to talk to.



About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair
This entry was posted in Aging, Consciousness, end-of-life, Poem, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Fun Monkey

  1. PT says:

    Interesting poem – I love monkeys! I recently fulfilled a bucket list dream of mine and got to hold one on an island – here’s my picture –

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.