Dear Elephant Man,
Perhaps you do not suffer from some debilitating, disfiguring deadly disease. Your face does not appear horribly mutated. No mind. This title is not meant to damage your self esteem. No, if it does you are too sensitive and maybe we have you wrong. We refer instead to the hue of your pilot shirt and your strong, careful spray. Impressive. You sir, put that iron decorative bank elephant to shame.
Jealous is an understatement. It’s pupils disappeared in covetous amazement. It’s jaw dropped. It’s trunk leapt from it’s idle peanut searching dangle to a strained arch. Not a stream. Not a drop. Not even a squeak.
Yes man. You outdid man’s imitation of nature – you, with your cool squint, pursed lips, slicked hair: khaki and careless – outdid yourself.
Congratulations. Way to keep it real. Way to score one for the humans. Way to put that statue in it’s place. Way to go, man.
This Ridiculous World