Pablo de Rokha
Monkey said since you are kindhearted…you ought to be able to persuade the demon to set you free.
Pigsy
Some drag memory after them, a stinking sponge gathering waste, putrid spillage of a life un-minded, while others troll grottos dampened by sense’s oblivion, dimed by vocabulary’s rickety frame.
I, living as the Other yet uncleansed, have no time for memory, the shackles of regret shuffling wistfully, wearing a smile enfeebled by ephemeral delights until age’s deluge of self-correcting loss sweeps it all away.
These are, all of them, vain inquiries into autonomous anarchy, a delirium of disquiet disguised as meaning and behind which the monkey bangs at the typewriter, flailing, smiling, completely unaware.
Umbriate Press Poetry 