The Monkey’s friend and caretaker. He spends his weekends scouring the pages of the Greasy Monkey Web Site here, for spelling errors and links that don’t work. But you know, every once in a while, he and the Monkey sit down and drag the ink pen across blank ledger pads with reckless abandon. This, Until the clock strikes that hour, when it is time to open the doors to the Greasy Monkey Poetry Reading Lounge. Go ‘head and Dig!<\/p>\n
A Moth has wings<\/strong><\/p>\n A moth has wings Misty, White and Old<\/strong><\/p>\n Who will challenge the beauty Benny Terpin<\/strong><\/p>\n Benny Terpin once said to me Chide Me<\/strong><\/p>\n Chide me Babs and JFK<\/strong><\/p>\n When the President dies Say Something<\/strong> Pay for your things Lie just a little bit Shelter is the best of all of them The Monkey’s friend and caretaker. He spends his weekends scouring the pages of the Greasy Monkey Web Site here, for spelling errors and links that don’t work. But you know, every once in a while, he and the Monkey sit down and drag the ink pen across blank ledger pads with reckless abandon. This, Until … <\/p>\n
\na delicate creature
\ndevoid of soul
\nA moth has wings of powder
\nand string and bits of
\nflesh
\nwith no meaning
\nno valiant structure
\nsmall beauty
\nwith no brains
\nA moth has wings envelop
\nand cocoon
\na corpse alive
\nwith summer’s night air
\nA moth has wings
\nand I
\nhave none.<\/p>\n
\nof the moon.
\nA misty daemon shrouded
\nclouded, white and old
\nas time itself.
\nWe watch quite politely as
\nthe moon revolves from
\none side of sky to another
\nFollowing us, watching our eyes
\nwith dead eyes
\na million
\nor so.
\nThis moon is dreamy
\nthis moon is sublime
\nand no one can challenge its beauty.
\nNone so bold
\ncan move us like the moon.<\/p>\n
\n“Go down, go down
\nSouth again and see
\nThe old cats in all the old
\nrhymin’ jamming good timing
\nholes and haunts dark
\nand gaunt
\nSee ’em blow, see ’em go –
\nThere’s a window on your past
\nyou don’t keep clean -”
\nBenny Terpin once said to me.
\nI packed my goods,
\nI closed up the joint
\nI headed down South
\nin a hurry…
\nI came up to all the
\nold rhymin’, jamming good timing haunts
\nlooking for Jimmy Smith and
\nTeddy E. – Harry Sweets
\nand all the doors were closed, rotten,
\noff their hinges – the smoke had
\nturned to cobwebs.
\nI turned back on my tracks
\nand as I gazed deep into a wooded place
\nI saw Benny Terpin
\nor at least I
\nsaw his name.
\nI saw Benny Terpin
\non a piece of
\ngranite worn and
\nbone white, propped
\nat an odd angle
\non a sunken block
\nof Earth.
\nI put my jacket back
\non
\nand started the longwalk home.<\/p>\n
\nRide me, insensitive
\nDrive me to the nearest
\nbrink of pain.
\nI stand not alone
\nalone only with all of you
\nRide me again
\nto another new home
\ndriven away alone.
\nChide me insensitive
\nListen only to those
\nmoans and tears
\nof sad times. I dropped along
\nthe way — insensitive today.<\/p>\n
\nYou feel your pain
\nand hope, despair regain
\nWhen your momma dies and your daddy dies
\nYou’re left no hope to gain.
\nWhen your dog she dies
\nin cold remorse your life it holds its reigns.
\nShe looked at me
\nI handed her over
\nto two men, she had never seen.
\nBut she never looked at their faces
\nShe never paused to refrain
\nShe didn’t lick them or run about
\nhappily greeting them, us all the same,
\nas everyday when meeting someone new
\nShe looked at me and they took her from me.
\nShe was broken, she was tired
\nher body was all that stood.
\nHer mind was there and memories
\nof all things to her, good.
\nAnd they pulled her away to take her down.
\nThey took most of my heart through those doors
\nI never saw my dog again
\nI cried a rueful sorrow
\nI never held my dog again
\nI felt I had no tomorrow
\nWhen the President dies, or
\nis killed in hate
\nYou sorrow once for
\nthe hatred.
\nWhen your dog she dies
\nYou wonder and hate how
\nyou’ll face
\nso many tomorrows.<\/p>\n
\n(non poems)<\/p>\n
\ndon’t pay for your dreams.<\/p>\n
\nand you start your own never
\nending story.<\/p>\n
\nand the hardest to find.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"