Mr. Elephant
Let’s try replacing the ears— large flaps are prohibitive. Lizard-ears allow nonstop listening: pencil scratch earrings jangle baby smacking mouthfuls It’s pleasant listening all kinds. Yes, we could give Elephant lizard-ears. We could tell him what to do. Clair de Lune. Elephant, listen to Clair de Lune—it’s lovely! Will Elephant like music? We don’t know. The trunk, how about the trunk. Huge brown eye, thoughtful (scheming?) Restless, he rocks back and forth back and forth for ages. OK, we’ll let him have his trunk. It’s hot in the sun— can he fan himself with music? He doesn’t know—doesn’t appreciate his new ears. Why all the rocking? Stand still. Leaving now, caravan style. Just the one elephant, lumbering amidst us. He won’t if he doesn’t eat. * Look, sweetie. See the elephant? What does Elephant say? Not moo, not shkree. Little boy says love you Elephant says forget forget
Jeffrey Kingman lives by the Napa River in Vallejo, California. He is the winner of the 2012 Revolution House Flash Fiction Contest and a semifinalist in the 2013 Frost Place Chapbook Fellowship. His novel, Moto Girl, is about a 12-year-old girl learning to ride motocross.
Multicolored elephant image courtesy Shutterstock.
