Graceland

Some came to satisfy their queer attraction
to be close to something dead
that draws such loud attention

Gathered in black with white handkerchiefs
for years now they have arrived
beneath the same sun, not yet tired
of shining on these strange parades

Later they will claim they saw him in Chicago
McDonald's seems a likely place for a Pink Cadillac

I'm going to Graceland, where they can call me Al
I'll bring my Kodachrome and a pocket full of drums

There are strange sounds in silence
the king could never quite explain

ajs

This poem is about: 
Me

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