To This Monkey Pencil Topper

Quit fucking staring at me.

You have a hole in your head!

No thumbs.

Or fingers, for that matter.

Just tacky brown rubber stubs

That don’t come out past your jaw.

How do you even eat?

Come to think of it, are you even a monkey?

Sat on your butt, sure, maybe.

Sat on all fours, you could be a hippo.

 

But

you’ve got a silly grin wider than your body.

And whether it’s because you don’t want it to or because you’re made of rubber,

It doesn’t get any smaller.

With a cute, swishing tail and happiness in your button sized eyes, you pass a fraction of your smile on to me.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741