Monkey Goes West

I am the monkey of monkeys,

Sun Wukong is my name.

A rhesus macaque and demon,

a rebel, a trickster of Heaven.

I fell from the Buddha’s grace,

banished to a mountain of stone

until I atoned to serve

venerable monk, Tang Sanzang

or Tripitaka, in Sanskrit.

I’m known for amazing strength,

an original superhero

or am I a thug in a robe?

With the speed of a meteor I hold

two mountains on my shoulders

and travel 108,000 li

in a single somersault.

I also control the weather

and fix anyone on the spot

with one whip of my tail.

My enduring skill is wit,

evident among readers.

I possess a monkey mind.

I got the 72 Transformations.

Each hair on my head shapeshifts

to animal, weapon or object

but due to the untrainable tail

being human is beyond me.

My companions are Zu Bajie

or Pigsy, the gluttonous one

with a slue of low desires.

Tubby trouble and slacker,

he begrudges my prowess.

Sha Wujing, the least wise,

like Pig was once a general

in Heaven, but shattered

the Crystal Goblet

and was banished to a river.

Finally, enter Yu Lung,

the White Dragon. He gobbled

Tripitaka’s horse.

In remorse, he transformed

into the white equine,

a horse that can talk, of course,

to carry our monk to the West.

Yu Long, fearful of danger

runs off when things get scary.

Broken down, spindle shanked,

what do you expect of a dragon

pretending to be a horse

pretending to be human?

Such is our freak crew.

We thrive on escapades

against the Sovereign of Chaos,

the Tiger, the Bear, the Buffalo,

Black Wind and Yellow Wind Demons,

Scorpion Demoness and Red Boy,

Spider Women, Iron Fan Princess.

Some say these are charlatan

politicians, Confucian bureaucrats. 

The list goes on and on

for a hundred chapters -

prose spliced with poems.

Why us, you ask?

We’re outlaws, loud and venal.

Sandy is a stout ogre

and Pigsy’s a slouch, and yet

we were all recruited

by Quan Yin, bodhisattva

perpetual, compassionate.

She saw something in us.

In the service of the Buddha,

mock monks we move

on the Nirvana quest.

Demon-born, we strive

and when we mess up

Master Tang Sanzang

chants his Migraine Spell,

a plain quotidian power

that keeps us all in line.