Jar of Monkeys

jarCheeky monkeys trapped in a jar, a truly unique creation from moi. See their faces pressed against the plastic, perhaps yearning for freedom, or staring off into the world with indifference. In time they will all end up chewed and torn anyway, so it matters not what a cheeky monkey would even think. ‘I want to have my own place in little Japan, perhaps write a novel or two, and meet Thurston Moore.’ Chewed and torn.

Then a realisation comes; that this jar of monkeys is a creation made from the designs of others. The monkeys aren’t  mine, nor is the jar; thank Asda and the local sweet shop whose name I can’t recall (should start looking where I enter) for those. If I sat a man in a bus, it would be man in a bus, ‘won’t you come and save me, save me?’,  it wouldn’t be my thing. It’s a collision I capture and display as my own. We’re all colliding with plastic.

But what everyone wants to know is: How many monkeys are in the jar? The right amount wins an iPad, because that’s what everybody wants. If you don’t, then you aren’t everybody. Who are you?

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