Crow on My Back Monkey by My Side 2nd version

Crow on My Back Monkey by My Side 2nd version

A Poem by Jesse Torres II
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Dark companions - unfinished piece - meant to do simple modifications on version 1 but ended up going a completely different direction which may be difficult to make into a screen play

"
If I were easily amused, maybe high wouldn't seem so good. 
Getting High.......... Getting HIGH

Addiction may divide and separate as they say,
but getting High brings it all together.
The sharp edges, the manic nausea, the traumatic stress disorder. 

You see, tonight, there is a crow on my back and a monkey by my side 
and 
they are my best informants 

The monkey holds my hand and the crow whispers in my ear and at once we become, 
the clapping fool
the raven at the window
the lunatic on the grass

The monkey holds my hand and the crow whispers in my ear
and their knowing eyes meet behind my back 

Here we go again


And there are places we can only go together 
We are special companions in special rooms
Only we have the key to these doors
But we are not friends


The monkey looks up at me like the fool he is, trusting in his keeper
but his eyes are different when he looks at the crow
I suspect I am the kept

Down darkened walkways the monkey jumps at darkened doors 
“lets go here, lets go here, I like that door, that one, the one marked “X”
the crow whispers “X,”….”X,”…..we like That one…..
the monkey squeezes my hand and the crow digs his talons into my flesh
and they sing a special tune of caw and grunt, 
they are my pied piper 
I must go.

Which shall it be? Which shall it be?  The one marked Sheila, the one marked high chair or the one marked force fed?  How bout the one marked f**k.  Or maybe the one that says 1978.
So many to choose from, I let the monkey choose, and the crow tells the story

We enter the one called F**k, and the monkey masturbates on a table and I screw in a corner and the crow watches
and we stay in there for a very long time

In the room called Sheila the monkey s***s on the floor and sprays perfume on himself and shrieks about the room
and the crow whispers in Sheila’s ear, “I just want to be friends, I just want to be friends, I just want to be friends”
and I sit and watch.

We enter the one called 1978 but the monkey pulls away. This one always scares him.  Maybe its the shard of glass in the kid’s foot on the kitchen floor, or the hanging from the hair, or the rocking in the closet or the indifference in the living room.  But the crow whispers in my ear and somehow 1978 becomes different.  I find those faces from back then and I let them know, “this time mother fuckers, I’m top b***h!  are you listening to me!!?? I’m the tiny little terrorist this time.  I think I’LL have some fun with YOU in THIS 1978.”










crow whispers
“what’s the problem? you function”
I reply “you goddam right, i pay my f****n’ bills. I'll get high when I want"

© 2013 Jesse Torres II


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Added on December 8, 2013
Last Updated on December 8, 2013
Tags: rage, abuse, anger, addiction, high

Author

Jesse Torres II
Jesse Torres II

Kent, WA



About
I'm a Karate Teacher, Former Marine Officer, graduate of Univiersity of Washington with a BA in Liberal Studies, father and husband. Running a karate school for twelve years, at which I take a holist.. more..

Writing