Tuesday, October 10, 2006

The Monkey Sprite Magician

I chase a monkey down the street
And let one fly into a dumpster
One what? You may say?
A cloud of bowel air destined for an exorcist
I envision it green and lingering
Burning the lining of my nostrils
Sniff sniff

I have eaten two pounds of beans in a week’s time
To wallow in this stench
Repetitive and repugnant the gas is released
As I chase a monkey down the street
Shaking my fist at him with a grunt
He turns his head glancing back at me
Grinning forward and intentional
Cackling at my misfortune

These intestinal expulsions are the cause
Of this monkey sprite magician
With a wave of his wand
My beans become colon bullets
Gas canisters dropped into my food to enact a war
inside me
I am the innocent victim from the stench that rises

The mustard cloud that waits
Then escapes from my needing to adjust my bed covers
Surprising me, startling me from spiritual
With its vomitous foul odor

Just a reminder that my body still works

What a blunt awakening in this now when the smell
I am taken prisoner by this invisible phantom
Who is heralded in his abrupt arrival
With a blowing of the trumpet

Announced in a musical tone
Shocking the ears that it’s notes fall upon
Destroying reputations in a quick surprised motion

Pouncing from its birth it lingers then sways
Floating away on an unfortunate breeze
With wishes of finding a nose gone astray
And polluting its owner with visions and reminders of
the flesh
Housing meets machine in this spirit container

I sit and read
Devouring words of high meaning
But I feel tossing gas pockets becoming one with
each other
Building in size
Knowing there is strength in numbers
Release is certain
As the countdown begins

A great shift is felt suddenly
Then unplanned for and as swift as Mercury
The trumpet again sounds the arrival
Of the green phantom
My mediation is broken
My thoughts torn away

I am toppled from my lofty conceptual heights by
this explosion
Re-connected with my body
To reap an inhalation of remembrance

What was once so inviting and desirable
Beans and rice
Has now been transformed into something quite
Somewhere on its long and strange journey
This moment was predestined
Each event a springboard into another
That led to this rebirth
From solids into air
Carrying a whiff of sarcasm toward me
The one who devoured them
They have the final say in this debate
No need for words to explain
Only the trumpets blast
And the senses of smell and taste

Our nostrils have all been invaded by the food of
Food that was once so desirable
Transformed into a monster
By our own bowels we created it
Yet it surprises us still

by Matthew Manning

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