MT 2-3 Monkey Visits the Poisonous Snakes

MT 2-3
Monkey Visits the Poisonous Snakes

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Monkey Visits the Poisonous Snakes

A swift death
was never their style,
the cobras, the vipers,
the adders and subtractors,
the bean counters and snatchers,
the diminutive dudes.

They prefer death
by blow-gun
their poison dart
injected through
hollowed fangs

or Chinese Water Torture,
the slow drip after drip
of poison inserted into ears
and veins, a drop at a time,
and slowly gathering …

… until their victim slows down,
ceases to struggle,
stands there, eyes open,
unable to move,
poisoned and paralysed.

Comment: with all the exciting things that are happening concerning my new poetry writing, I forgot all about my monkeys. It seems they have been bouncing up and down, fretting in their cages, bounding all over the ruined, broken-down temple, poor little blighters. Apparently, on their last visit to the rest of Bristol Zoo, they left the big snakes and decided to visit the little, poisonous ones. I guess they didn’t like them at all. Does anyone? I hope there are no ‘snakes in the grass’ near you, and I don’t mean grass snakes. And watch out for snake charmers, some of those snakes believe more in harm than charms.

PS Let me know if you want a voice text. I haven’t recorded this one yet.

6 thoughts on “MT 2-3 Monkey Visits the Poisonous Snakes”

  1. I feel this segment had to be written! It has elements touching on healthcare, certainly speaks to the role certain divisions–HR or Finance–have in large organizations. It can, I suppose, allude to more personal relationships as well. My numbers, once again, weren’t sufficient to permit me access to treatment. I’m discouraged, but will of course be okay. Not much in the mood for chat, though. Perhaps later today we can chat. I won’t be going to writers group though…I’d only manage a few Tuesday’s grunts. 😉 Cheers, Chuck

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    • Good morning, Chuck. I have e-mailed you separately. The beauty of allegory is that reaches out beyond the individual situation to embrace a much larger world. In the distorting mirror of the temple monkeys, we can all see ourselves, me too. I am as much of a monkey as any of the others. Meurtriers ou victimes? It was Albert Camus who offered us that choice. The law of the jungle: kill or be killed, murderer or victim? As chief creator of Monkey Temple, my morning is red in ink and pen.

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  2. I love all of your monkey poems. I was at university with a guy from India, and he was most concerned to watch children – in Manchester, mind you — running carelessly through deep grass. He cautioned them in concern for their safety, then remembered where he was. Old habits die hard.

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  3. Hahahahaha
    I have a girfriend who is from India. One of her favorite childhood stories was visiting a park known for its monkeys. The park had a warning that the monkeys would snatch cameras and things out of tourists’ hands, so they recommended storing things out of sight. Her dad, thinking himself clever, hid his camera in a clear bag of oranges. The monkeys spotted the oranges and snatched the bag, and he never got his camera back.

    I love your monkey poems!

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