In Memoriam

The boy has left, forever gone.
I watch his monkey sit and mourn.
It licks it’s bloodied balls and sighs
And then tries on some shoes and ties
The boy left him. It combs it’s hair
(whatever’s left), then plays an air
Upon the big, brass, shiny flute
The boy once used to play.

The monkey plays a tune I knew
When creatures of it’s kind were few.
It stops, it looks at me, it winks,
It pours itself some wine and drinks.
The monkey smooths the pinned-on tail
The boy once got him at a sale.
And troubled, kicks away the flute
The boy once used to play.