Elephant Water

Dan Veach



What is this, underwear?

This sudden fragile, antique, ghostly air

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget....

Is this what you’ve gotten from hanging around with poets?

I know,

It’s no fun being sat on.

But listen,

You’re not that much holier than me

And here I am after all these years

Still clinging to the bottom of society.

If I can do it, so can you—

Hang in there!

Please, underwear

Don’t give up on this veil of tears

And leave me behind all cold and bare!

Don’t listen to those nightingales—

I need you!



Copyright 2012 by Daniel Veach

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Wear & Tear

The poet to his underwear