Well, well – it seems the monkeys are out,
the water is soiled and the wind blows
down, across my feet and face.
Hair real tangled.
What is it boogie-girl, hot like paste,
cold as snow? My arms feel weak; not one with limbs.
Sad girl cry for boy…
Leave us distant – mend with wind –
try us out; we don’t disappoint. Will dance fast.
Grins across shadows and clouds –
reflecting water; with my open legs and arms,
it is my nature –
Wild monkey cry.
2010 Barry Comer