Author Information
Of Pink Elephants and Paint
The paint drips from the end of the brush
dipped so elegantly into the pot
Waved onto the wall as if in a dance
making me see things which are not
such rose colored beasts that dance from this prison
these four walls never held so much life
I feel so light headed, yet so entranced by the movement
of these pink elephants that came to light
I can't see straight, such a dense smell lingering here
I sit down, take a breath, only to reel a little more
Watch the dancing of the pachyderm parade before my sight
drop my paintbrush, it splatters, dead on the floor.
