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.
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