On Jakarta’s streets
what we see is the game
where monkeys are dressed in dolls clothes
the same
a spooky dolls face
then they’re taught to ride bikes
scooters and dance
and they really look eerie
you just take a glance
of a white faced macacque
dancing under the moon
with a drum on its back
like a little balloon
and the tourists agree
show their fascination
and do pay to see
but the monkey is ill treated
tortured and starved
not given water
his provisions, halved
to inducd them to flaunt themselves
just everywhere
and just keep going
until real despair
sets in, and it does
these primates are weak
dehydrated too
so not, at their peak
then there’s’ dogs taught to fight
in the blistering heat
its very uncomfortable
nothing’s discreet
they tears lumps of flesh here and there
there and here
and again tourists love it
the grot and the fear
Doll Monkeys dance
they parade in a ring
step to one side
then step back again
and many a screwed to the ground
on a chain
they can’t go anywhere
they are sort of impaled
prisoners really
where all lifes failed