The Monkey
(Was Killed Because I Let Him Bite Me)

“Load the trebuchet,”
was the better cry,
than to wander among
the neurons in stealthy
imagination.
How the first group
made it with not one
infidel amongst them,
I do not know.
I mean come on,
those gorgeous cages
and perches? Those tiled
Persian tubs?
Then hardly, I thought
right past a memory
that made me hit
my brain:
“Little primate, are you
hungry?” to which I
fed him my finger
through the bars.