More About The Monkey

Now Charlie is thinking this:
He doesn’t know if he is coming or he’s going
His fingers are all burnt
They smell like piss
And he feels like shit.

This is what Charlie thinks of poetry:
He likes ugly words.
He feels pride when he doesn’t understand.
He wishes he wasn’t here.
And he isn’t.

Charlie slides the needle in.
It burns as it travels and he knows
The journey is nearly over now.
He tries to remember how it feels.
He tries to remember his mothers face.

He thinks he sees her and he squints.
He tries to find her charm and he wonders if it ever really happened.

Now Charlie is feeling this:
His head is reeling, his arm is bleeding
He is awash with love.

This he will remember.