Where Drunken Elephants Go To Die

Where drunken elephants go to die Was my lucky spot when I was a child Sure others did not believe But what did they know? It was my world. Missing links lurk under my gray matter Bringing up ideas from out of the ether I run with them gladly For I am a poet, a cartoonist, and a painter Gives sway to the wind’s whims, My imagination, on fire, especially in summer June is my wild month When I have four weeks off work Each breath becomes a project Each idea becomes a painting Each ideal becomes a cartoon I am in my element here.