Don’t Fight the Monkey

A MAZE is a bad place to be sloshed.
TOKEN of my folly: I got to the center, picked a fight with a
MANGAbey. Never fight a monkey. (Even when on the wagon).
BOOZY ideas crumble when you’ve sobered up and are getting a rabies shot.


Poster showing various kinds of mangabey monkeys and their wildlife preservation status.

Any monster will do

The
FREAK, pursued by the maddened troop, foamed at the
MOUTH. Trapped at the crumbling edge of the
CLIFF-top, he paused. Time to drop, to die. The nearing
TROOP, open-mouthed, watched him tumble, peaceful, without a cry.

[Not sure what day these words belong to, but only one writer has used them so I thought I’d go all out 19th century melodrama.
And, I didn’t want to deal with TAROT!]

Chaos or Order

EXIST, professed, in cauldron’s roiling brew, atoms colliding, yet
FLAIR for story, most days, has you weave sense, narrative, purpose.
TAROT’s a glitch, a wobble in your views, a hope some kind of providence is there to read.
TRUST your nihilistic cosmos, dismiss your intuition of sense. Or: invert that order and seek order?