The invention of history.

I am sitting on a branch,
near the tree’s top, next to

a Capuchin monkey and 
we are watching a man

wrestling an alligator. In
the distance an industrial

truck belches black smoke 
as it nearly runs into a

very old man slowly crossing 
the intersection. Then the 

monkey says, Looks like the
dude’s got the alligator in

a choke hold. And I say,
The old guy barely made

it across the street. Then 
the alligator gets free and

scurries away, but gets run 
over by the truck. Shit, says

the monkey, then, I got a
job, working with a private 

investigator. The monkey 
peels a banana and hands 

me a piece as I ask, Doing 
what? The monkey looks me 

in the eye and says, Help 
solve crimes. I say, Sounds

like a TV show, and the
monkey replies, Yeah, very

much like a television show.
And we watch the old man

very slowly amble down the
street—until he is gone.