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Elephant Gambit


                        Neither fists nor kisses for me.
                               —Saul Bellow, More Die of Heartbreak

Busker at the earwax plinth
demanding attention tentiginous
over the whimsical priapic proclamations
of the turdiform heralds of spring:

HERE I AM
and
HERE IT IS
and
IT CAN BE YOURS.

What is it to try to write
what cannot be communicated?
To try to say
what cannot be comprehended?
A grand gesture requires an audience.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.