Dot One

There is a large elephant sitting in this room, watching me drink apricot wheat drink.

It is sexless, doesn't say much.

We've watched the flat screen. So far it's been epiphinal moments, with lots of blood and blowing leaves.

I see all it's skin, reminding me of wet cement.

Big elephant, why does your parched ear feel like cotton upon my brow?

When you kiss me like so, I hear the Big Bands swing.

Red puffs of lips, greased parted man hair.

Love, really.

It makes me want to die when the grass grows right under your feet, in the house.

Death by amazement.

I shout, "How did you do that?"

All you give back is the tired look of a tutor.

It's okay, I've said, time and time again.

You, large elephant, don't need to explain a thing.