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A macaque without history,
She says about him
As he lacks memory
At the bottom of his dark gloves
But his gaze is a veranda
Give it time and you will see him,
Entering the jungle
No, don't ever meet him
I've looked deep down the game
Is this all? well, you know
I'm an old sparring partner
And I have never seen
A more brindled calm
More secret than that
Take the first coach, go
Everything else is already poetry
He will be over 40
And some cheers now
They are due for love
No, don't ever meet him
He stood there, in his smile
Watching the trams passing
Old track for elephants
Paved on the macadam
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