What is elephant poetry? Maybe I didn't quite
hear you clearly, maybe I have wax in my ears,
are you sure elephants don't write in verse, if I
tomorrow afternoon wake up as an elephant, I
ignorant of the fact, would try to write in verse,
syllables counted, cushions under my manus,
elephant tusk dipped in a well of dark blue ink,
levity aside, to hold the paper in place, a trunk
enters the picture as an impossible proboscis,
probability of success, the degree zero of lost
humanity, no longer my human form, how do I
answer the question of language, of empathy,
now more readily available as an elephant, if I
translate elephantine to English, do I succeed
poetically, does elephant poetry sound like an objet d'art, small, beautiful but useless in form,
eloquent for elephants but not poetry in words
trying to be something I am not as if by magic,
reality sets in, I find myself trapped inside this
yellow vase, imagining I'm a tiny bull elephant.
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