ronald koertge

if i ever get an actual day off ever again i feel the need to write a longer post about some of the disillusionment that seems to be plaguing me these days. in the meantime here's a monkey poem which more or less does the trick

an infinite number of monkeys

After all the Shakespeare, the book
of poems they type is the saddest
in history.

But before they can finish it,
they have to wait for that Someone
who is always

looking to look away. Only then
can they strike the million
keys that spell

humiliation and grief, which are
the great subjects of Monkey
Literature

and not, as some people still
believe, the banana
and the tire.