When we were young,
you and I pretended to be elephants.
We would stomp around on our hands and knees
nodding our heads up with long paper trunks
and sometimes wore grandpa’s gray shoes
the ones with the funny tassels.
Each time we were called by our names
we ignored them,
preferring to announce our arrival to dinner with
an honest imitation of an elephant call
Mine would be more slobber than sound
While your lips on your arm sounded more like a fart
than any elephant I ever heard at the zoo.
Who are we to discredit those who suffer
those zoanthropic people still living under blanket forts
and pretending to be monkeys
or baby birds
to get through life.
Maybe they never had a brother like you
to call them stupid or childish
when the games had stopped
and the homework piled up and on.
Maybe they had two.