Simian Credo


You, who are limber in decisiveness,

bang your hammer on the floor.

Roll over when you give in

and make friendly with your mouth.


Spill some juice through those drool-wet lips.

Press a button for more treats.

Squash the bruised fruit in your fist, then devour.

That’s just what it takes.


You live for play and food when you love a monkey.

We don’t have to forage anymore; our heart’s content.

Let’s go back… ranting the point.

Give in… have an accident.


The love of monkey is as real as it gets.

That fur.  Your fur.  Mmmmmmm.


Extend the bloodlines, nowhere to everywhere.

Show your teeth.

Fit a round block into a round hole.

Search me over again for lice.



Pull the lever; here come the treats!

Watch out for broken glass.

Right now, I’ll teach you to spell ‘raisin’ in sign language… on this muddy couch.

You free me from the snares of symbol myths

By running free beneath me

And not giving a shit

But shitting a lot.


Love your monkey.  Don’t fight the mandate.


Give in to the ancestors… they shall always have the last grunt.  Go backward in your mind.  Swing forward to the past.  Simple like it used to be.  Like it should be?

Pull the lever until you are satisfied.

Love monkey, don’t fight your mandate.


M.A.M.A.S. LOVE AD #3, mixed media collage, 1997 copyright GPD

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