Worse Than Elephants

There are things worse than elephants in this room.

Unseen they may be, but nevertheless

manifestly here.

Beasts with belaboured breathing

taking up too much space, invisibly.

These are the creatures that have defied

all description for centuries,

that have no need to breed, no right to be,

but just are.

Present as much as the sad furniture

nibbled by dusted decades,

or flesh and blood of awkward relatives,

similarly decayed,

but worse for having no name

and no entitlement to take up space.

These are the banshees of your bloodline,

all the worse for being mute and wanting.