pushing down with his ivory trunk into
my heart, his big feet pouncing on my lungs.
I always thought too much and I guess
the elephant knew that so he tried to
squish it all in by sitting on me.
A circus trick you know, supposed
to be good for me. Nah, instead
it just squeezed the air out of me.
My heart began pumping for all
its might, fighting the elephant
in the room. No good.
My mind still wants to explode,
a bomb set off in Afghanistan.
All I know is that I need air.
I can try to breathe, inhale
through my nose, exhale
through my nose, but no good.
Mr. Elephant wants to keep sitting.
He doesn't ask me. He doesn't approach.
Rather, he whispers in the darkness.
But I can't hear him, only the others.
He doesn't dare tell me to my face.
Rather, he is a cowardly elephant.
I don't like elephants that much.
The peanut shells get everywhere.
The tricks are so cliche.
I've seen it all, in circus after circus.
Everyone thinks they have something special.
But I never liked elephants that much.
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