Irrelevant in my pajamas

Up late reading the latest Nevada Barr novel--what a stunner. Maybe the best one yet.

So, before turning in, I thought I'd knock on the muse's door, or whatever cute metaphor you might want to use. I guess I saw a picture of an elephant in Amazon.com's "peek inside" for Hollywood Babylon. I wanted to redeem the elephant somehow, take it out of that sordid setting. I thought of Ganesh. But I got no farther than creating an elephant protector when I just kind of wandered.

That elephant isn’t going anywhere.
Stoic, or perhaps drugged, he stands
at the tent opening,
skin cool and dry as stone,
eyes drooping like melon seeds.

He was called there,
to guard those within,
and he has made of himself a wall
with no gate,
a gray impediment
more powerful than the saffron canvas.

Since when does evil seek a door?
Can it not rip the house to tatters
from without, within?

The next day, the women
bring flowers and sweet leaves
to the stone steps
where once stood a home of curtains,

the steps that look, from a mouse’s eye,
like the knees of an elephant.