Evening

I feel like there are
coming off of my organs
hundreds of tiny strings
dangling and swaying in the cavity of my torso
like the ribbons
of a shinto shrine.

But my ribbons,
they have
been disarranged
and tangled by the nimble
filthy fingers of the thousands of snow monkeys
that are living, currently,
on the shelf of my diaphragm

chattering
they are screaming
and jumping
making me unbearable and nervous.

Obviously, we do not coexist peacefully
they will only go when you return
to me
to scare them with the face you make

The one that is better than kabuki.