Elephant in the room

We walk into my padded room

and – yes – there is the pachyderm.

Of course it’s there, all grey and trunky!

“But what the heck is smelling funky

from that corner?” folks exclaim

as they exit, in disdain.

 

I stay perched upon the stool –

I will not run or lose my cool.

I’m well aware that the steaming stench

makes hands and teeth and buttocks clench –

for fear of clearing up the mess,

for fear of what shit’s in their heads.

 

Out in the garden, folk relax,

and smell the roses, just kick back.

They may poo-poo my hefty creature,

and be repelled by its excretia;

but the soil out here is fertile now

after years of work with my compost, and my trowel.