A Poem by Montag

those who command and those who serve




I have a monkey on a string

I have a little bell I ring

then monkey comes to do my bidding

washing pots and babysitting

he brings me news, he trims my nails

keeps me from goin’ off the rails


But now my monkey on a string is a discontented underling

he used to clown and make me smile

now his eyes stare straight ahead, like any half-fed crocodile

he claims his dreams are stalked by visions

I think he’s making poor decisions


Do you ever wonder why monkeys serve us?

does it ever make you a little nervous

the way they scurry around and clap their paws and prattle on about Santa Claus?


Do you ever wonder what monkeys think?

after work when they have a drink

or late at night, as they rub their feet, and contemplate the things they’re not allowed to eat?

Monkeys are as monkeys do (I don’t have to explain that to you)

and if we had to state it in a single thesis

it would be that monkeys are a, lesser, species


Still, my monkey was my favorite friend

until that final, angry end

it’s funny how so many solutions

seem to point to revolutions


I have a monkey on a string

I have the latest jetpack

I have a voice that doesn’t sing

there must be an app for that

© 2021 Montag

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Added on June 10, 2021
Last Updated on June 15, 2021



Oakland, CA

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