monkey holes

they stay right in their monkey holes
their monkey roles, with all their clothes

they stay right in, with all their goals
those monkey holes have got them lulled

with all the things they have been told
and want to hold with all their soul

they can’t escape those monkey holes
until they mold a kind of gold

but first they have to let it grow
and brave the cold like ages old

to release their inner underflow
and imbibe the glow that reaches low

and then climb out, just like moles
from those familiar monkey holes

into the dark beyond the knolls
where frequent holy afterglows

light the way, since they’re exposed
and see the rolls inside their folds

beneath the space of all they know
but, then again, it’s time to go

2 Comments

  1. David

    Thems is some chunky monkey holes
    Mine is strung up on a pole
    And I’m standing on my tippy toes
    But I can’t stop thinking about those monkey holes!!

    Marks poems make me want to flow in verse and rap along like rappers in a holy place full of numberless Raymond’s, on the other side of the monkey hole 😉

    Reply
  2. Mark Mandel (Post author)

    he can’t stop think about those monkey holes
    who knows indeed where all of them go?

    Reply

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