The lens high

A bonobo capuchin and nude ape fought.
One held up a nugget of skin,
four legs, half called arms.
The bonobo touched it the wrong way.
It said the right way. It’ll make circles.
The enzo, or the skull.
Its stomach is mealworm full.
It borrowed the ladder from chapels
it built on tree vogues.
The capuchin was cast off
and was named Abraham or close.
It worked to the bone
and was fodder in a mealworm.
It was semi-solid in a hose.
It bashed itself and glowed
floating drunk on high atmosphere.
The ape, it said the hills were his,
said it raged and spoke.
It said sex was for bonobos,
capuchins, said sex was writ in stone.
The three spread open like spandex,
oil, or a sheen on spit.
When all three died they smelled of shit.

~ by Jeremy on June 17, 2011.

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