THE ORGAN GRINDER’S MONKEY

Besides field trips
to Peachtree Street
(with our car doors locked)
to see
THE HIPPIES
sitting around
smoking pot
on the sidewalks
in the seventies;

another repeated trip
that I’ll never forget
was going to
the then open air
LENOX SQUARE MALL
to see
The Organ Grinder
and His Monkey.

My asshole step-father
called the hippies
COMMUNISTS,
he was SOOOOOOO
full of fear
of what
the hippies
wanted out of life,
of what they wanted
to put into life.

He liked
the Organ Grinder,
they were equally
SELFISH.

Acworth was boring
back in the Seventies
and we needed
relief!!!

You see,
this old man
in a red suit,
had this little monkey
in a matching red suit;
only the monkey
was on a string
going up to all
the shoppers
with his hand out
taking donations.

Everybody threw money
at The Monkey
because they loved
HIM
so much.

I remember
feeling sorry
for the little monkey,
realizing that he
was doing all the work
and his owner
was making all
the cash.

I repeatedly
questioned my Mother
about the equity
of that arrangement.

In turn,
I never LIKED
that goddamn
Organ Grinder.

How could anyone
with a soul
resort to that
depth of
unfairness,
and still sleep
at night?

The Monkey
worked his ass off
for that old man,
and I’m sure
that he wasn’t rewarded
in kind.

THAT image
has always haunted me
and is a
benchmark
for my decision making.

Have you ever wondered
if you were
The Organ Grinder
or The Monkey?

I have.

I’ve come to
the realization
that The Organ Grinder
will never tire
at the hands
of The Monkey,
but as humans,
having opposing thumbs
and well developed brains,
we can choose
to unleash ourselves
from the chains
that bind us.

Can I get
an
AMEN!