Seeing Things (Poetry)

An elephant, too hot by half,
threw off his leather overalls
and charged about completely in the nude.
His friend, a very suave giraffe,
alerted by a long trunk call,
swallowed hard, thought carefully and chewed,
ruminating what he’d heard —
his chum, it seemed, looked quite absurd,
but the giraffe was too polite to laugh.

Discreetly dressed and worldly wise,
he tried his best not to offend
the pink and wrinkly, naked pachyderm
so mentioned that, in terms of size,
few could impress more than his friend,
but current trends were cause for some concern:
“Pink isn’t you, it doesn’t suit.
Although on pigs it might look cute,
on you, dear boy, the opposite applies.”

The elephant considered this,
grabbed his grey skin and threw it on
and thanked Giraffe for kindly meant advice.
Yet sometimes he just can’t resist,
(two beers — all inhibitions gone)
and, so far, he has been arrested twice.
Now pigs, for certain, don’t have wings
unless we’re simply seeing things,
but pink elephants,’though rare, might well exist.