Naming Monkeys

I spend my time most wisely
naming the various monkeys
my fantasies gestate
all dependent of course
on what they bring
to the table, or my back
and that which they take away.
Eduardo brought a waistcoat
and left with ankle bells
basically he named himself,
but Crystal, on the other hand,
needed more convincing,
even though she danced a go-go,
after leaving me a faded
sepia tinged photograph
of a once grand
ostentatiously appointed
white plantation house
in Kentucky, I assumed,
where she once picked up a pair
of silver thigh high boots.
But Dan, oh Dan
a most suitably appointed handle
would never, ever
come a running, or a hanging
no matter how long I called.

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