Monkey

Red monkey breath—
each  petal                                                       flutters
like paper in
the                                                                    gutters    in
the turbulent energy
of its                                                                                                   being.

Its love, a simian
logic (or the lack of it).

Swinging sinews
bind palm to branch,
to                                                                     root—each
                                                                        shoot
each leaf flutters too,
in the reckless dance
of its                                                                                                    fleeing.                

Ancient primal
primate love this,
that fills the
rhesus in my                                                    gut—
Red and throbbing
and vital
its song                                                             but,
just a note
short of                                                                                                freeing.

Anirban Kapil Baishya (14/5/2012)