And the monkeys don’t like us.
They sit on the ladders to their windows
and yell that we’re taking their land.
They look down on us
like we don’t have enough fur for them,
but I don’t see how something so furry
could survive in all this heat.
We hear them in the night,
complaining about what the world is coming to,
with the likes of us moving in,
as if there isn’t enough room
in the rain forest for everyone,
as if there aren’t tree houses aplenty.
Mom says they just don’t like different.
And sure, there’s a human neighborhood
across the canopy,
but the schools here are better,
and we’ve got the right
to send our kids anywhere we choose.
