wasn’t the job I signed on for but
it’s the one I got. Is it cannibalism
if I use ivory chopsticks? Real ivory
not white plastic.
Carved and stained
with red-and-green ideographs
that read kinsman. I’ve heard
that elephants mourn their dead.
In my hand they lengthen and curve
the ends toward my mouth
grow sharp. I’ve brought the wrong
tool for the job. I should
lie down, they won’t trample
(flanks rising around me like
cinderblock walls) if they don’t
feel threatened. I should
pray.
Books Available
The Day of My First Driving Lesson
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Knocking from Inside
Wednesday, April 14, 2021
Eating an Elephant with Chopsticks
Labels:
free verse,
poetry
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