Backwards Purple Elephants in My Soup

My refrigerator learned to tap dance yesterday. While the ceiling was brushing

its teeth. The doorknob sang opera to my favorite spoon. And my socks

grew roots underneath. Oh, backwards purple elephants are flying through my soup.

My grandmother's telephone is doing loop-the-loops. The calendar is sneezing out confetti made of cheese.

And my left shoe just graduated with 17 degrees. I planted a rainbow in my

kitchen drawer. It bloomed into Wednesday morning. The stairs are

afraid of going down today. So they're hiding behind a awning.

Oh, backwards purple elephants are flying through my soup. My grandmother's telephone