A Curious Incident at the Monkey House

Not long ago in a town close to you,
A boy and his mother went to the zoo.
As they walked, the boy snacked from a bag of marshmallows
and tossed them at crocodiles bathing in shallows.

But the reptiles just sat there, doing nothing at all,

and the giraffes chewed their cud while ignoring his call.
The zebras were boring, the tigers were yawning.
The birds in their cages sang none of their songings.




The hippos were lazy, the elephants stunk,
and nobody wanted to go near the skunks,
but then they arrived at the cage with the monkeys,
and that’s where they saw something incredibly funky.


“What are they doing?” asked the little boy, Chip
as he slipped another marshmallow under his lip.
He looked at his mother with an expression perplexed.
“My dear, they are engaging in monkey sex.”

Mrs. Gargleson wasn’t the type to mince words.

She was happy to explain about the bees and the birds.
Sex was all natural from her perspective,
though she’d prefer if the monkeys would wear contraceptives.

Perhaps little Chip would grow up to be smart,

and he’d use all his brains and he’d use all his heart
to find a solution to the difficult problem
of teaching a primate to put on a condom.


Chipper could work out a specialized diagram,
a practical plan for a lady-ape diaphragm,
but then again monkeys are monkeys, it’s true.
And it’s not like they have something better to do.

You may still believe that they shouldn’t have sex,

but it’s better than smoking cigarettes.
And anything is better than flinging their poo.
That’s the last thing you want to see when you go to the zoo.