I’ve
been tapped in the napper by skull
cracker monkey warlords I’ve
been dug up and called out by knuckle
dragging sporting types who had me
pegged as an easy mark but I’ve never been easy and I never mugged a chump though I made a few exceptions when
exceptions were the rule and chumps were
thick on the ground
I
rolled in the hay with farm girls and in the street with
street girls I bought their stories on
approval I got a few stories of my own they’re hard to tell with dirt in my
mouth I was committed
to no commitments and on my honour to be a good boy which
was never simple in the no tomorrows of
the unconscious reflexive existence
the jungle demands of its denizens
I crashed out of monkey town before
I went native I
bugged out of the urban for the country
where no-one knew my name became a real nice guy and raised a family in the
cosy cotton intimacy of belonging and total commitment but every now and then I
still feel it burning hot and bright
the monkey in my soul
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