The Elephant from India

Disregarding my delirium, I dance
with the elephant from India

She smells of sweet heat
that rises from beats
of butterfly wings

The women are so friendly here
in the Palace of Psychedelic Daisies

I must confess my impure thoughts
to the Giant Centipede who guards
the gates of the Great Honeycomb
Pyramid

The queen of Wasps invites me to kiss
her hard-candied hips

Just as my lips reach lavender bliss,
a crystal god smashes the moment

Sending me crawling back to the village
of Fire Ants where I am elected President
because my skin sweats marmalade

But I'm soon unseated by a toad on a stump
who promises a decade of dead worms

Now I sail the sea of Buttered Popcorn,
salting the stars with paper cut fingertips

I long for one more chance to dance
with the Elephant from India