Made of Monkey

By Ben Ohmart

A collection of poems depicting the true meaning of the word Love: hardship, knuckle-bending compromise, sheer stocking terror, and the will of the man to submit to the won't of the woman.

For all you cranberry pickers interested in love, marriage, going together, living together - let these poems sway you into the middle of the street.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BearManor Media
• Release date: Jun 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311052995

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Made of Monkey: Poems by Ben Ohmart

© 2015 Ben Ohmart. All Rights Reserved.

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Made of Monkey

The Aisle

Love is the true God, forcing dark skies to sing when there is no music and young men to crusade against all others down the perpetual aisle that eventually might lead them to question later. But like the best suicide bombers, certainty keeps us and sustains us when generic Harvey-brand bread stands in for the body of Christ and the dullest of rings on those third fingers supposedly dissipates all leggy showcases and imaginative skirts coming toward us.

In hard economic times and American humor hourly dourly influenced by sarcasm, love has been demoted to crumb Jesus, perhaps even the Holy Ghost. But it exists, to flourish, in first-time hearts of all, fluttering its Ghost in the last act of sane, married men. This is a collection of random thoughts from the mystery of love, explained.

God is not perfect, but worth worshipping, for the chance at favors to come.

The Writer

Made of Monkey

the man was made of monkey

all harry and harried and loved

a meandering contradiction of lust

dragging smooth knuckles

swinging from trees, reedy beds

clueless, scratching his head

like some Laurel when she made

a move

divorced

child-sharing

porn subscribing

playing with what no other woman touches

sad

conned

confused

spreading his seed

within the Kleenex corporation

or LLC

giving nothing back

but taking nothing away

looking for love online

night by night

the staggering fees

lost his job

no way to continue the alimony

daughter hates him

but only love is returned

in the ample Ashlyn Gere catalog

My Side of the 1st Date

it’s great

yeah

well, I was married once

no

haha, I like that

well, she gave foot massages. I finally had to put

a stop to it

well, she’d start coming home late and she was

self-employed

I know

it’s good

okay. we’ll have two like that

no

well, I don’t like talking about myself. there’s not

that much. the well isn’t that deep

joke

okay. you tell one

yeah. that’s good

okay…we’ll have the…yeah, okay

really? how do you wear it?

I don’t know how high

okay. you can do that

so what? I don’t care

you’re a slag

yeah

you wouldn’t know a…don’t cry

I’m sorry

yeah

okay

what time tomorrow?

Nature Intended

getting used to the gravel

was the worst part

right after the paper came

he didn’t bolt anymore

but took his time

even to bend and grab

Marjorie didn’t understand

John, Ian, no

they looked at him like a tree in the forest

sometimes he’d wake up a hard man

often, just a yawn and a hello

first it was fun to point, joke, bitch

then, as life does

day after day after day after

it wasn’t funny anymore

Ian couldn’t bring girls home

Marjorie went back to school

John preferred tiny games, he

was out of the equation

more time

more time to think

more time for Carmichael

to feel everything

all at once

from every blowing angle

this is what happens

when you work from home

Wives Beyond Years

I read about this couple

who divorced after 60 years

of marriage

it gives me hope

because she was old she was loved

she was often cold in the theatre

sitting on the edge seat

wearing large oval glasses

her hair was curly, frizzy

understanding of any single man

who came to the show alone

and spent establishing shots

viewing his reactions

she parked at the far end

to walk, to keep attractive

she rented a space a thousand yards

from her one-room flat

everything at her angles

all colors, all feelings,

she didn’t have to make the bed

if she arose without the inclination

a jar for the ticket stubs

dating back so long

before they were barcoded

made herself a cup of white hot chocolate

looked at the man asleep on the bed

himself unmade

unemployed

unsolved

unbuttoned

Something to Live Against

to wit, I say to her

given the gradual decline

in global speculation, I

don’t see ‘someday’ coming

at Alaskan cruises before my nose

against which, You promised!

the end of it

it’s chilly, but we take pages

and pages of phonebooks to

stuff inside our jackets, tween

the shirt, so our skin doesn’t

know who to ring

too cold to inhale, but its sights

are breathtaking

a whale slips between a sloshing off

glacier, plunks his head right into us

seemingly drowns, but you know whales

she takes the hand I’ve had these 19 yrs

smiles me payment, thinks we’re even

course, it’s enjoyable

skimming the depths, minding waves

more as immobile, textured rug

than living, endless fish frosting

pulls me aside, as the capt. comes

plants me one with full fork and trowel

I take the long journey of a slip

around her waist, smile a receipt

sunset doesn’t steam the ocean up

just no words to cross out

but

still waiting for my change

As I