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When Monkeys Feel Rhythms

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In French the word for my is pronounced mon. When Monkeys feel Rhythms taps chosen veins of humanity. The poems examine how relating to aspects of life has affected us, and how the topics I've chosen to write about continue to confound us in spite of their power to enlighten us. For better or worse, some poems look for how far we've come from times when vines swung as means of transportation. These sixty poems share a common ancestral link. They chain together the primate mentality that follows those who have prospered in life and those that life has failed. The poems investigate relationships and indicate the advances that have been made since those relative connections were discovered. Monkeys points out the need to think and communicate, all the while watching those basic primal skills deteriorate. Mundane aspects of marriage, friendship, politics, and technology are explored. When Monkeys feel Rhythmus peels back the layers of where humanity has been, what we've lost, and where we have yet to go. In "Evolution Lost another Tale," a tether of technology is addressed: "do you ever re-think the calls you made to slap steering wheels as you raged the roads and bumpers were nudged sudden so your middle finger rose to convey simple thoughts?" This poem points to how a race of drivers has evolved. The poem shows the distance primates have come with the wheel they once invented. It says how the wheel's novelty is worn out and communication can no longer wait until the trip to end. It asks when the need to communicate defeated the distinct possibility of fatality. It asks when people became so self-important that they would risk their lives just to be heard. It speaks of how technology has enlarged our heads, shrunk the world, and re-aligned priorities: "...there were no distractions then there were no distractions when-- channels broke for truckers to handle their loads with a sense for humor that wouldn't talk fierce to rage the roads;" Metaphors often disguise malignancy. My poems find cancers in society. The rhythms shake; they quiver and flush out the benign. I invite you to examine what is peeled back. When Monkeys feel Rhythms will make you laugh. Some might make you cry. Others look for the moments you like to say "a-ha." Some are bold, others are shy. I hope you find reading them as fun and enlightening as writing them was.

Weniger Details

I earned a BA degree in English from the University of Minnesota-Duluth in 1989. Success, having my writing read and possibly bought, was always the plan. To implement it, I began writing stories, poetry, snippets of everything I saw. Before I was married, I lived (and made it out alive) in a very much crack-infested urban area of South Minneapolis. I dealt with roaches, crack-heads and shrill siren sounds every night. The days, hanging out at Brit's Pub, gave me insight to how the have-nots live. I grew up in the relatively tranquil suburb of Richfield, Minnesota. During and after college I traveled. Germany, France, Egypt, England, Israel, Norway can be claimed as places I've visited, derived poems from, recorded my benign experiences. My first Poetry book, Scenes the Writer Shows {forty-one places a poem can go} conspires to retell the snippets of life abroad. My pose has so far manifested itself in the genres of nonfiction, creative nonfiction, and historical fiction. My first novel, The Orthodoxy of Arrogance (Trafford, 2013) is historical fiction. My second novel, Agent of Orange (Trafford, 2014) also fictionalizes history in a way James A Michener never did. I relate fads, trends, and news events of the time to my characters. I write how they live, what they learn, and how the events affect their lives. My first effort was a small nonfiction book called Would God Move a Ping-Pong Table: a cumulative analysis of faith and religion (Loft Press, 2005). This book follows religion, and the faith it requires, from the Inquisition to the September 11 terrorist attacks. It is full of factual information dealing with everything from faith healing to the Golden Rule. The only part that borders on creative nonfiction is the chapter from which the title comes. At UMD I prayed for a Ping-Pong table to be moved, and it was, ostensibly by supernatural forces. My other shorter stories have been published in paper and online magazines, anthologies, and journals. My first occurred in 1998. I currently participate in a writer's group at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis.