I’m not exactly sure when the monkey appeared on my apartment building’s wall. I look at it every day when I’m coming and going. No one has desecrated it just like Chico’s rattlesnake spray-painted on the sidewalk a block away. People walk by it but they don’t destroy it. In the city art often appears like a blossom on the wall, the unexpected beauty welcome. The monkey made me think of a short poem (with a long subject) by Gregory Corso, a poet I first met not too far from where the monkey is now: “Standing on a street corner waiting for no one is power.”
I wanted to capture the monkey for you before rain, sun, wind and snow on cloudy wings take it from us. Here’s the monkey as happy as ever. I really enjoyed putting it together this morning.
It was warm last night so I left the window open in the workroom. This morning’s cold, the blanket’s blown half way off the bed, and papers are strewn. I played guitar for over an hour—yes! Doing Walkin Blues I added another verse, “Come on shoes, let’s get on down the road. You’re never going to get there until you go.” Maybe I’ll change you to we; when I play it enough that should fall into place. Awhile back, I’d already added, “It’s like I took a match to everything I own. I woke up this morning and everything I had was gone.” So now this song is a little bit mine, me added to the tune that goes back even before Robert Johnson into time.