These Are My Words, My Neon, SIliconed, Carcinogenic Words. But This Is My Poem, My Poem About Elvis.

It was her first day in town.
Chewing on a fresh stick of gum, she was looking up and down the street; eyes sliding over the bustle of sweat and sin.
‘Little girl lost?’ I asked.
And she sighed.

I would say to her over and over again on that first day,’Laugh with me, Jenny,”
And sometimes she would.
Especially when I made my funny faces at her.
She would try not to; she would just roll her eyes at me, but that smile would come. White teeth and soft lips.
And then she would laugh and laugh and laugh, until her body shook and her hair was covered her eyes.
And I would want to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her…
But I dared not try.

I took her to see the kittens down at Paul’s pet store.
She held them close to her, rubbing them with her face, but she fancied the talking bird more. He said, “Hi, beautiful,” when he saw her. Really, to any woman walking by, but she did not know.

I took her down to see Bruno and his lunch-time sound; strumming his guitar and sucking his cigarette like there was nothing else to better to do. Washing the melody down with tequlila and rum. We sat in the corner and she leaned her head and her body against me. She closed her eyes. “Music is the best thing in life,” she said. And it seemed to me an uncontestable truth.

I took her to Wagner’s and she tried on all the pink shoes and I bought her a pair of 25 cent flip-flops and she hugged me and after that we held hands and I took her down to the beach; grit between our toes, swelter of skin.

And then back up to Sam’s. He smoked with us a joint, in his tiny room, and we were mellow. When he told us the weed came from Wisconsin, she laughed with him.

We skipped over to Joey’s and we ate some fish and when I tried to feed her elegant little bites from my fork, she was laughing with me again.

And when we left, I told I was sorry for all the walking and she said, ‘Who owns a car? I came by bus.’

I took her back to Sam’s for the night; there wasn’t anywhere else to go.
I heard her in his arms that first night. I heard the soft whispers and moans.
I heard his voice.

Well, fair exchange bears no robbery,
And the whole world will know that it’s true.
Understanding solves all problems, baby,
That’s why I’m telling you

And on that second day, she would say over and over again, ‘Laugh with me, Paul.’ And sometimes I would, but only when I thought about the crabs Sam handed out to everyone.

I took her down to the graveyard. We read the old stones and I stole flowers from them to put in her hair. And when she went to pee behind some bushes, I ran off, back down to Bruno’s, back on the prowl.