Three Poems: The Monkey Man of Lima, Plus Two More
What Hides behind the Minute?
What hides behind the minute?
The rose was dead when I arrived;
Oh lovely minute, where art thou?
#675 5/18/05 [at the bookstore café; Roseville, MN USA]
12) Vietnam: Shrapnel
Here under the ball of blood
The air-is melting Hot!
You know you're all alone
The Monkey Man of Lima
Advance: He is the last of his breed, I do believe; the Monkey Man of Miraflores, Lima, Peru. Who winds his wooden music-box up, while the monkey dances, pulls out a slip with your fortune on it, from its drawer, and hands it to you; he is seventy-four years old, small framed and I confess, whenever I go to Lima, about once or twice a year, I look forward in visiting him; which he is normally in the park seven days a week, from about 2:30 to 9:00 PM. He vacations about three times a year for about two weeks each time.
I used him as a character in one of my previous books, "The Mumbler," and gave him a copy, as one of the artists did a water color painting for the cover of the book, of him, and his monkey, and his music-box. His son read the book to him, since it was in English, and not Spanish. He thought it quite the item.
I know he is getting up in age, and his back will not hold out forever, carrying that big wooden box on his back ((a belt tied around him and the box))this man of five-foot three, 110-pounds) with his monkey in it-which he has carried for 60-years-but until it does, until he retires, he is worth seeing, if one takes a trip that way, that is. Permit me to echo an almost lost tradition in the poem that follows, one I saw when I was a kid for a short time in Minnesota, and one that lives on in Lima, Peru, today, but may not tomorrow. #661; 5/14/05.
-I get a-thinking!
-I get thinking!
Dennis Siluk, Poet and Author, his website is: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
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