Elvis in Atlantis

I saw Elvis making crop circles in Atlantis

From the window of my pink wooden house

Rattling pigeons lining the lip of the rain gutter

Squawking at the wash line

Strung out in the strata of the bleaching sun

I hung out in the window frame

Smoking Camel Lights in a T-shirt

Watching flocks of black angels

Soaring above the leafless treetops

The bourbon reek of the ocean

Rolling and foaming across my

Tilted square of freshly-cut lawn

My radio zoomed into Prague DJs

The red pin of the dial pointing magnetic North

Tangled fibers of cotton

Being spit from slits

In my favorite vinyl tablecloth

Rings of coffee stains

Blood stains

Love stains

Remind me of where I have been… 

It was the sway of electric light September

A lonely hovel of a home

Basking in the sore stomach of life

Miles from nowhere

Seconds from everywhere

The typewriter clicks banged off the walls

Steel drums clattered in the distance

Monkeys tossed pineapple bombs in the graveyard

And all was merely a flicker of time

Bottled in a piece of cherry-lemon rhyme

My Christmas tree bent and dried

Presents left unopened

The jagged shards of ornaments

Looking like fragile teeth

Ready to take a bite out of me

Whenever I passed by them

On my way to the bathroom

To load another razor

To scrape away my senseless charm…

It was in the grocery store where I saw her

Standing in the long line

With a bottle of all-natural apple juice

And carb-friendly yogurts

Cradled within her arms

She smelled like dirty peaches and chai

Broke and fragile and hot high from behind

Her zodiac leggings tight and cradling ass

One strap of her orange top sliding off her dimpled shoulder

She turned for a moment to cast a psychic, random smile

Ocean water eyes from another world aglow

A premonition of a wife to be

Then watching her fade out the sliding doors

As I plunked down thirty dollars

For beef steak, potatoes and mounds of pasta

And I dropped them all for love

And followed her through the jungle

Hoping she’d lead me to a crystal ball

Or Kerouac’s meditation mat in the woods…

And when I raised my head up off my table

The vinyl stuck to my face trying to keep me down

I realized I was dreaming again

The jagged teeth of the ornaments

Grinning wide, making fun of me

And I went into the kitchen

Turned on the light above the sink

And went to work making a poison stew

While listening to Prague DJs spinning

songs about screaming for help.

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