The Purple Elephant
It all started with a purple elephant.
I kid you not, a purple elephant.
He was staring me straight in the eyes,
and I thought,
“Why are you an elephant?”
I figured better to ask why an elephant,
than why purple,
though either way he appeared offended.
He lifted his trunk, and twitched his trousers,
I hadn’t thought to ask about trousers,
and turned his head away.
What was I suppose to do?
When faced with a purple elephant?
A purple elephant that was ignoring me.
Me! The only who noticed him there,
the only who cared.
So what else was there to do?
I pushed up my sleeves,
rolled up my skirt,
and kicked the stuck up mastodon in his ear
and yanked down on his tail.
Then he noticed me.
Oh did he notice me.
He noticed me enough to hoist my skirt with his trunk,
and place me kindly on a flagpole.
So now here I am hanging from a flag pole,
unable to get down,
and it all started because of a purple elephant.