13 October 2013
Here is a poem:
I am four monkeys.
One hangs from a limb,
chattering at the earth;
another is cramming his belly with coconut;
the third is up in the top branches,
quizzing the sky;
and the fourth–
he’s chasing another monkey.
How many monkeys are you?
I am perhaps ten monkeys today:
One is listening to Wild Man Blues by Allan Vaché and tapping her foot.
The other is telling her about this video of Woody Allen playing this tune, saying, SHUT UP AND WATCH THE LEGEND PLAY HIS CLARINET, WILL YOU?
One is writing you a letter.
One is reviewing essays.
One is thinking, what are we here for, and for how long?
One is angry at what happened during breakfast.
One can’t wait to get a massage this afternoon.
One wants to curl up in bed and read all day.
One is thinking about lunch.
It is Sunday. The last monkey is hoping you’ll have a lovely weekend.