XXXIV

There is really nothing quite as fearsome
as a sentient sock monkey staring you down
from a gruesome sixth-story parapet,
replete with several survival satchels–
the majority of which being loaded
with nearly-expired mayonnaise–
causing nearby neighbors to shout,
“Don’t you dare open those bags,
they’ll be a goddamn biological weapon!
Christ!” Unfortunately, the sock monkey
doesn’t understand a scrap of English–
or any spoken language, for that matter.

Author: Aidan Badinger

Wharved.com I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children.

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