Monkey Screams

by Robert Joe Stout

Monkey Screams thrusts the horrors, the idiosyncrasies, the fallacies of the War in Vietnam into the vividly personal reactions of participants whose fears, accomplishments and shame burst forth in descriptions that surpass journalism or propaganda. They are both confessions and recriminations, yearnings for home and struggles to make sense out of the senseless. In similar fashion the second section of these poetical narratives reflects the anxieties, conflicts, resolutions of the succeeding life as it is contrasted with what life could or should be. Telephone linemen, football coaches, foreign-born account clerks wrestle limitations imposed by laws and society, proud of their achievements yet poignantly aware of what is missing in their lives.The third and final section pushes into the present through the eyes, thoughts and imaginings of a journalist nearing the end of his career. Poems of acceptance, of remembrance, little details of life that never important before become planks between acceptance and eternity. Facts give way to dreams and dreams to definition of what his life has been and why. The factual world—lentil soup, the cat asleep—offsets perceptions of monstrous fish, a boyhood unicorn that only he could see as he experiences existence beyond that apparent to routines of daily life.In Vietnam, the silence that followed battle was eerie, frightening, until the sounds of the jungle resumed—the monkey screams as one G.I. describes it. But the normal to which it returned was itself surreal, something to be apprehended intuitively, not understood by superficial observation. Throughout this book the intuitive pierces the commonplace, transforming the ordinary into something feared, loved, shared.

90 pages, Kindle Edition

First published April 29, 2015

About the author

ROBERT JOE STOUT is a journalist who has worked as a magazine editor, newspaper reporter, copy editor and contributing editor. The author of Hidden Dangers, Mexico on the Brink of Disaster; Why Immigrants Come to America; and The Blood of the Serpent: Mexican Lives plus the novels Where Gringos Don't Belong; Running Out the Hurt; and Miss Sally, he has published nonfiction widely in magazines, journals, and newspapers. His short fiction has appeared in literary and trade magazines and his poetry includes the books Monkey Screams and A Perfect Throw. He lives in Oaxaca, Mexico.
Blog at http://mexicoconamor.files.wordpress....

Reviews

[FutureCycle Press · Rating 5 out of 5]

We are the publisher, so all of our authors get five stars from us. Excerpts:


GOD’S GRANDEUR

These damned paths end. You think you know
just where you are and man you’re lost.
Like now. Trees with great big sweating leaves
drape rocks that gleam like jade. I crouch,
work past the leaves, crawl up a slope.
Safe here, they say, miles from the Cong
—you never know. The fucking jungle’s
like a song that just goes on and on.
I want to pray but nothing comes so I push on.
Find a place that I can sit. The sunshine
on the shimmering green is like a thousand
sparkling lights. Birds in the trees,
a gentle breeze—God’s grandeur, man!
The tears start in my guts, dry out
before they hit my eyes. I hate this place!
Hate it with an intensity so fucking fierce
I think I going to come apart. Controls y’se’f...
That’s what my auntie used to say.
She talked her “Heaven” all the time
and pictured this. Birds. Green leaves.
Clear endless sky. I bow my head but still can’t pray.
Open my pack. The letter’s there. The photographs.
Two comic books. Hurt flings hailstorms
through my chest. Who am I? Fuck!
And where? And why? I lift the books,
look at the pictures, try to read
the words. It helps. It’s home.
I close my eyes. Tears start to come.
I still can’t pray. Cong shaped like Batman,
Robin, Joker dance across my mind.


A SIMPLE MEAL

Lentils, rice; clay bowl crafted
on a potter’s wheel; he reads while eating
(handicapped by broken teeth),

his one companion a black cat
perched table-side, his memories
like clouds dwindling into scraps

of gray above the building tops.
Content? He doesn’t think about it much
nor venture into fantasies

like he once did when he was young.
Enough to eat, books to read,
life like fishing in the river:

maybe catch a perch, a carp
or nothing more than warming sun,
phantom clouds, the sudden flight of doves.

[Jimmy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting book of poems in three parts. Part I are stories about the Vietnam War. One problem I had is there didn't seem to be a clue in the book as to where these stories came from. I don't know if they were true or made up. Part II was called An Enemy to Blame. Each character in this section had a job and a daily schedule. I thought that was creative.