The Elephants
Jennifer King
[Listen to a reading of this poem.]

I want my lover to give me a funeral just like a parade
of elephants - When an elephant dies, the others hover
their trunks over the body.

It is part of the death ritual. They don't have to
be related to weep in unison, but the sound still stings,
much like screaming, until the dissonance turns into

They cover the body in leaves, bury it beneath the dirt,
then stand policing the vicinity for several days
like gray pillars that are stuck and half buried.

I wonder, will my lover want to remember me enough
to come back in the years after my death, like a small
of elephants contemplating this place where they've
     put me.

Jennifer King is a writer, editor, and book maker living in Austin, Texas. Her work has also appeared in Farfelu Magazine.