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.