He’s looking for a good home, no doubt. He came out to the depths of Brooklyn to look at those cheap listings. This is an old picture, one from 2009. And unfortunately, I haven’t seem him again around here.

I would have loved to have him as a neighbor, flowering pink streamers from his trunk. Of course he’s sensitive, and an artist. He was quite taken with the local gardens and would have flowered and bloomed his way through any community garden. You know, because that’s jut to way he rolls. He’s quiet, watchful, and the perfect roomate. A welcome whimsical addition to any neighborhood.

“Come see local flowering pink Elephant give a poetry recital,” the poster would say. And we would just have a hard time convincing locals that this isn’t a new hipster band name. Still, most people would come around and market value would come up. Naturally. It would be an Papier-Mâché elephant explosion!

Alas, there is no elephant or walrus or any other interesting mammals living in this neighborhood. It’s probably not gentrified enough for their sophisticated tastes. Bubblegum and whiskey.

(My partner keeps telling me that I should start a blog called, “SHIT found on !#*% street!” Where, the “!#*%” is my street name. This isn’t that blog.)