Saturday, April 18, 2015

Waiting on Elvis, 1956

April is National Poetry Month, and I haven't posted a poem yet. While I'd love to post a poem I've written, I don't really have one I want to post tonight. So I'll post one of my top 5 favorites, written by Joyce Carol Oates. The title is "Waiting on Elvis, 1956," and I like it because we hadn't loved that boy to death yet. Not yet. The poem speaks to a time that seems almost unbearably sweet .... and this weekend I've had some moments that seemed almost unbearable sweet myself.

Waiting On Elvis, 1956

This place up in Charlotte called Chuck's where I
used to waitress and who came in one night
but Elvis and some of his friends before his concert
at the Arena, I was twenty-six married but still
waiting tables and we got to joking around like you
do, and he was fingering the lace edge of my slip
where it showed below my hemline and I hadn't even
seen it and I slapped at him a little saying, You
sure are the one aren't you feeling my face burn but
he was the kind of boy even meanness turned sweet in
his mouth.

Smiled at me and said, Yeah honey I guess I sure am.

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