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Dieter Burckhardt
I last saw my inner monkey in Bangkok, drinking Mekong whiskey
and howling at go-go dancers. I told him I was going to Japan,
and though he didn’t respond (or even seem to notice
me), I could sense his disapproval. I should listen to my
monkey more often
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TOILETRY
My toilet has been scaring me.
It has become morose and cantankerous.
It bellows in the early hours of the night.
It recites Byron and talks of self-mutilation.
It drinks, drinks, drinks,
and then sings
in its low raspy voice
of the great machinery of night. >>>
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