Monkey

Bazaars came alive with the sounds of life
when the first light of day struck the face of Buddas
It is like no other place this small village, south of nowhere
East of everywhere in this world of the Monkey
I had been there once in the year of the war
You know the war against, nothing and everything
War between us and them-war of naked mistrust
with outright greed, infights between truth and justice
I remembered the village in those dreams of my death
Dreams of dying or the dreams of take and take
Where you were hidden in the smoke of a thousand myths
of the Monkey-smoke that wrapped you in secrets longings
you and eternal night of the mysterious blue butterflies
Cocoons in which smell permeates all touch and feel
As I walk through the village people whispering the names .