Like a Wind-Up Monkey
A Poem
Like a Wind-up Monkey
Amongst the clatter of monkey’s crash,
When the wind-up toy’s mad-cap dash
Drops off the table and shatters loud,
He catches a breath in the lapse of sound.
He worships in death with cymbal slam,
With symbols, with crashing symbols, he claps,
But quiets down as the gears crack,
Though the monkey won’t give a damn,
When symbol’s cymbals cease to slam.
Loved this one, Nik. Reminds me a lot of McGilchrist's discussion about the hemispheres and the dual nature of the physical alongside the symbolic. (We tend to favor one over the other these days, so it's nice to read work that reminds us of both.)