As Time Ripens

If you wish to be a Lord of the Apes, grow money as if it were ambition, grow ambition as if it were money, be as carefree as a leach, as gentle as a sledgehammer. Then an entourage of other apes will applaud you, shower you with golden bananas. You will be the Emperor of Emptiness. As time ripens in the light where you are so not, moths will be growing their milky teeth, worms will be working-out, dung beetles will be rolling pebbles up hills, preparing for the big day. On that day the ground will open just for you, and out of it will rise your sad, wilting member. It will be the last you see of it and it of you.