A Monkey in the Cog of the Machine



A monkey at work
Please dance and nitpick me more
A monkey has died

The monkey eats time
The clock watches her feast so
the cogs grind her bone

The bugs in her skin
Bleeding and pustulating
The blood is all  hers

You cannot be her
Breed from fire and hate of self
take your drugs in spite

The Monkey has died
Her bones will be called His now
Her lover will deny  

I saw her today
Her ghost screaming in pain now
Will that be me next?

Am I now enslaved
I have felt my voice leave me
My bones and skin break

Screaming without you
They've taken my flesh away
Blood is all I am

The Monkey's dying
I am dying bound in flesh
someone save me now

I am the Monkey
My sin of birth all I am
Dancing for Death now

I am the Monkey
A cog in the big machine
I dance just to die

About this poem

A monkey only has so many words it can speak to comprehend its anger and displeasure.

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Written on February 08, 2024

Submitted on February 08, 2024

1:00 min read
6

Quick analysis:

Scheme axb xxx xax xxx bcd ecx xfx xeg xxc Fgc Fxd
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 800
Words 199
Stanzas 11
Stanza Lengths 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3

S. Sirene

I do not have a name. I do not have a face. This is my voice that I fear I cannot use. more…

All S. Sirene poems | S. Sirene Books

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    "A Monkey in the Cog of the Machine" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/180649/a-monkey-in-the-cog-of-the-machine>.

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