Here is an elephant.

 

He knows not of what is going on

or how he got here. Neither do we.

 

He divides opinion, like the foul stench

of an onion in a warm room.

Some chant of its values,

smell only what they want.

Some simply cry.

 

The elephant fixes his tiny eye

on a mate.

“I’m gonna grab that cow by the pussy

with my tusks,” he thinks.

 

Following this, the zoo keeper,

with keys to the cage,

unleashes this beast; lets it rove,

lets it charge, lets it free.

 

He bullies wildebeests into

leaving the land; leaves a mark

of moral absolution on a journey

of giraffes seeking refuge;

he charges at a lioness, accusing

treachery and deceit;

a meerkat raises an eyebrow,

finds a trunk smacked in its face.

 

A trail of desolation, of devastation,

and a warning of despair remains behind,

as slowly, he rests, kneels down between

trunks of Marula trees, smooths

the wisps of blonde from his face,

and releases a gas from his anus

that poisons the rest of the world.