Poem for Elvis

Cruising’ down Old Beale Street, that gospel in your soul, starts
kickin’ a beat.The guitar man begins to turn up the heat, and all the brothers, they start tapping their feet.

Brother Jessie would have been so proud, to watch you play and
milk the crowd and hear the disciples of pure rock ‘n roll, say…
”This Guitar man’s got real soul!”

Adonis with the face of a Cherokee. You used to fly like the wind
in the Lisa Marie. You would mount your horse at the Circle G, and tug on… your Mommas ‘Apron Strings’.

That priceless gift brought tears to your eyes, for your daughter,
whom you idolized. The whole world stood – mesmerized. On the day that their king, went and died.

The grease comb is no longer in your pocket. And your soul… Just ashes in our hands. The clouds drift slowly over Graceland. That once was your Promised Land.

Ginger was always there by your side. Poppa was there too, when you cried. The whole world stood – mesmerized. On the day that their King, went and died.