Monday, December 16, 2024

A Monkey on Our Backs By April Ridge


Sometimes when I look at myself

in the mirror

I can’t shake the image of 

Monstro Elisasue.


Created out of neglect, 

out of selfish greed of consumption.


My need sometimes overbearing 

in the most inconvenient ways.



I think of my 20 year old legs:

the hamstrings, the back of the knee,

the calves shaped perfectly.



But now look at me, 

43 and struggling to fit

into any semblance of my former self,

veiny ankles, patella collapsed inward…

unrecognizably wrinkly.


We must learn to grow 

without expectation of clinging on 

to the old shapes of ourselves.


We must be willing to 

let the former selves go

lest they become a monkey on 

our backs

bulging outward

in an eerie smile

as we lumber onward

toward an undetermined finish line. 





April Ridge lives in the expansive hopes and dreams of melancholy rescue cats. She thrives on strong coffee, and lives for danger. In the midst of Indiana pines, she follows her heart out to the horizon of reality and hopes never to return to the misty sands of the nightmarish 9 to 5. April aspires to beat seasonal depression with a well-carved stick, and to one day experience the splendor of the Cucumber Magnolia tree in bloom. 



No comments:

Post a Comment

Come By Tim G.Young

  in the cadillac i shot my load off the highway on a dusty road the sun going steady with a big black cloud a dog by the fence howling loud...