Chicano Poet

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Henry’s Dylan Thomas Elegy For Elvis Presley

You’ve come a long way,
from Tupelo, to Vegas, to Hawaii,
to Memphis, the pills, the booze, the women,

their hips were songs,
rockabilly, blues and rock and roll,
you drove a delivery truck away to this,

the women swarmed to you like bees,
nobody’s beeswax but yours,
your sequined suits of glitter

blinked as your scarf passed over them.
Finally, secluded in Graceland
you turned into the King of Humpty Dumpty,

soon you had left us on that sad night,
you broke your crown, your heart spilled out,
Elvis has left the building,

you’re in route to the funeral home
where they pull out your guts
and fill you with embalming fluid

to prepare you for the afterlife,
the Aztec afterlife, the Egyptian afterlife,
the pyramids are there, over your left shoulder,

the stars align with other stars,
the crops are growing in your mind,
not quite heaven for a rock and roll star, huh,

but that’s our fate that you endure,
not poetry, not naked women, not naked men,
but nature doing what nature does best.

Sorry, but I’m drunk in New York City,
my ass is full of pity,
and someone has reached up to remove my poetry!

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