Letter To Elvis
“Letter To Elvis” by Marc Hosch I never saw your grave, but I saw your statue While on layover at an airport in Memphis, Nashville’s similar but contrarian sibling. You were holding a guitar, strumming an E7 And some thought you barely knew how to play, But I always wondered if you were just shy And virtuosity wasn’t your kind of rock-n-roll. Were you a Pentecostal trapped in a Baptist body Or a Baptist trapped in a Pentecostal body? Were you a good ol’ boy from the South Who loved the Lord and loved his Momma, But life was on and it was yours for the taking, Even if it meant taking the path many-a-man Before you traveled down and never returned? You’d swivel your hips and society jeered, Sneering at the vulgarity of raw human expression. At first, you were agape as you insisted this is how Many professors of faith in church moved when they Worshipped their Heavenly Father with tongues aflame. And I believe you believed that reasoning – at first. But you and I b...