Poem Monkey

Coming Soon

2009-03-26T23:54:00.000-07:00

A new updated POEM MONKEY logo plus more poems as Market Season gets underway. And who knows? Maybe some Genuine Poem Monkey Products^TM for you, the Consumer of Poems, Poetry and Poetry Related Products.

Thank you for your patience.

Magpies

2009-02-14T23:23:00.000-08:00

Perched upon gnarled limbs
in the early morning light.

A sparkle
takes flight and floats
through the air.

The shimmer
of black feathers
and the sound of
song like humanity
murmuring,
gently.

For now, this tree
is home and wary
wings remain
at rest.

In the mirror,
she recognizes
herself at last.

**PM**

Wedding Ring

2009-02-08T20:57:00.000-08:00

He runs his finger
along the inside of the dirty drain,
pokes it deep
and comes up with a
nice ball of wet hair.

He hopes
it's down there
somewhere

and not in the jacket
he left behind.

In his reflection,
he sees trouble coming.

**PM**

Death and Taxes

2009-02-08T20:56:00.001-08:00

"Sure things, right?" she says.
"Nothing is certain," he says.

They look at each other
as if
for the first time.

**PM**

Dead Battery

2009-02-08T20:54:00.000-08:00

"I can't believe it's dead
again," he says,
laying his tired head
against the steering wheel
as frost covers the
windshield in lace and glitter.

His breath is warm
in the stillness.

There are no birds singing
in the early morning light.

The work week dawns.

**PM**

War

2009-02-08T20:53:00.002-08:00

It's only a vehicle
for the transfer of
wealth
from one greedy human
to another.

It is driven
upon bloody rails.

The sparks glint in the darkness
and
the sound is
death,
laughing.

**PM**

Mountains

2009-02-08T20:53:00.001-08:00

The best part
is
they will
outlast

all of us.

**PM**

Children's Voices

2009-02-08T20:51:00.000-08:00

I know you want
this to be about how
wonderful the sound is,
how it makes you smile,
every time you hear
happy children's voices
floating through the air.

But the truth is:

the sound is like rusty chains
being dragged across a metal grate
while a dump truck backs up
on a day you're trying to sleep in
or
after a hard week at work.

Which is usually.

**PM**

Divorce

2009-02-08T20:49:00.000-08:00

It's been ten years
and he's never been happier.

He's pretty sure of this
as he
pours a quiet whiskey
on Tuesday
at midnight.

**PM**

Beads

2009-02-08T20:48:00.000-08:00

Silver beads hang from the branches of
the trees
in New Orleans.
Purple and gold and green,
the littered memory
of past celebration,
and the
promise

of good times still
to roll.

**PM**

My Dog

2009-01-27T09:16:00.000-08:00

My dog
asleep on the floor.
Outside:

quiet snow
falling.

**PM**

Cold Beer

2009-01-27T09:11:00.000-08:00

On the table
his
cold beer
is now warm.
He sits
staring out
of the window
with his
hand around the bottle.

She's not
coming back.

**PM**

Poem Monkey

2009-01-24T18:14:00.000-08:00

I have
a manual typewriter
under a small tent
outside
in the open air.

You step up
and give me
five bucks.

You say,

"Write me a poem,
monkey;
write one
about
my
dirty socks."

I say,

"Yeah,
I can
write
a poem
about that:"

his wife is asleep
and he sits
on the edge
of the bed
in the
dark.
he quietly removes
his shoes
and his dirty
socks.

he can still
smell
the other
woman's
perfume
on his fingers
lingering
in the
heavy darkness.

"Anything at all,"

I say,
folding the five,
as you walk
away
with
your
wife.

**PM**