To Grinder Monkey Smiles
To all mothers
Why do you part your legs
the 21st Century
Didn’t you know
That this is our final station
Where the monkey sits and waits.
What you don’t know,
He was born in the middle of
The rat market
Where all deals are made
And all sales are final
The only price is all certainty
That tomorrow comes
This is the city where the projector always runs
Jokers inflict their performances
on indifferent audience
Who are too determined to feed at the feet
Of the imp of the absurd.
Maybe we should have planned our escape
Before the monkey smiled,
Instead of wandering like dumb beasts
That serve as an exhibit on some distant safari
Under the burning glow of
it gave us the TV and black lung.
we should be grateful
What other system allows you to own a Statesman?
Pay for the right to soil your water
Blacken someone else’s?
How else can you explain the waters’?
And this century’s
Taste of curdled milk
That sits in some hoarder’s fridge
Waiting for the next great war.
Everything that blooms
In the forest where we once played
Now a days.
Which is the land of the disposable hero
And disposable victim
Where do you think your babes will land?
The fool with a loser’s dream?
The second-story man
Who suddenly finds a good job beating tenants
For some cheap landlord
Whose smile hides a felony?
Or the industrialist who wallows in his moneyed hole
Or grows fat feeding on the blue collar?
Maybe the hero
will be torn apart for touching the wrong ass
Only to fade from the television
to reappear on those pages set aside for those who overstayed their welcome?
And did you think you could
Swim in this ocean of equations?
This is elemental my dear.
The only outcome when you try to defy these waters
Is a riptide that will pull you under?
What role do you really think you will play?
We all move like fish swimming in tumultuous waters
But too many of your babes think
Like a family stuck in heavy traffic
Crying that they are going nowhere.
This is where the deals are made to move on
and the monkey shits himself laughing
It’s called bad luck.