Reaching for the topmost supermarket shelf

My monkey has furry fingers
of bread are softer than ice
cream of biscuit crumbled and gnarled and shaking
my fist is unclenched and eyes relaxed into a stupor
of flatulent ducks on my doghouse roof
mooing till I tend to the flocks
of men and pockets filled to trembling
with all my mirth I sign
the death certificate
of joy
sunken to beneath my sock’s lowest seam
is showing one toe
only one.