Blue elephants saunter in the moonlight, electricity keeps them Focused, like pilots on descent. There is no knowledge but bones. In this bowl there are mice. They squeal louder than the elephants. Someone hears them, I’m sure. The bowl is tossed out of the window As the mice scatter excitedly. Some of them are decapitated in the fall.
A bus driver dressed like a pilot (we barely knew him) Took it upon himself to manually deflate each elephant with A pocket knife. A young boy implores him to stop, but he doesn’t listen. He never listens. His fibers of moral rectitude have been surgically replaced with worms. He blinks like a mottled rat. Ugly bastard. Galaxies arise after long, brutal nights of love-making. Bloodied rabid dogs digest the remains of beloved heroes.
Her face is two-dimensional, like a crescent moon. Anxiety is a dish best served by doctors in green robes with cardboard hats. There is no room for bloated time, For seedless apples with only two eyes. Rest is the answer Ghandi crossed out multiple times with red marker While tucking himself underneath formless elephant skin during the winter.
Art: “Villa II” Keegan McHargue