trunk

This morning went i woke

There was an elephant at the breakfast table

 

He wore guilt red lipstick smeared across his lips

His mascara ran charcoal tears down his coriaceous cheeks

His jaw painted with blue and yellow rage

He stank of semen and severance

Of one against none and all against everyone

 

He dressed like a little fucking girl

A disgrace to his family

 

He helped himself to toast and orange juice

Chewing and swallowing

Down his filthy cum gullet

 

His father stared

As his buttered his toast

His mother stared

As he poured himself another glass

His sister stared

As he screamed inside

 

Faggot...

 

 

I did not stare

I did not judge

To me he was not even there

 

Because last night he taught me

That even though no one has yet adequately described a sunset

 

One day they would

 

And on that day

 

We would finally look up

And not down.

◄ ∞

The Flower Ladies of Tallinn ►

Comments

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John Bastard

Wed 23rd Dec 2015 13:21

The gravity of the final line suits me best

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 14th Dec 2015 17:33

I like this -I like your work, period. Perhaps I am unnecessarily confused ... but ... is this a play on 'There's an elephant in the room?' Or is that so obvious my question is ridiculous?

A really good conclusion; thought-provoking. Otherwise - maybe fewer words would make a stronger impact.

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