She Had The Lips Of Marilyn, The Hips Of Elvis And The Brain Of Oz's Scarecrow Poem by Ted Sheridan

The King of Rock And Roll died thirty years ago today….
I can remember where I was when I first got the news
My platinum blonde and dumb, Marilyn Monroe looking wife at the time
Entered our living room where I had taken up knitting
Because having sex with such a star as the two or three or four of them
Who all resided inside her bleached out head
Had become, for a simple homebody the likes of me, all too routine
And since I wasn’t in to that whole necrophilia and Hollywood scene
I chose to knit rather than to be knitted into the fabric
Of her whole “I want to be someone famous like them”, musings
In her best impressionistic M.M. gasping breathlessly voice
She sighed, “Pack your bags you good for nothing prick
Elvis just died taking a dump on his porcelain Monarch throne
So Sissy Barbie, and me need you to go to Memphis this afternoon
To place flowers outside the Graceland fence and light a candle
In his honor while everyone there sings a song for the dead King”….
I looked at her standing there with her red lipstick and white flowing pleated dress
Which she would pull up above the curve in her left thigh
Looking for all the world like a cross dressing swan
In the third and final act of horrendously bad Neil Simon play
I was trying to decide whether or not to leave the building
As I knew she and Marilyn both were waiting for a standing ovation
And so while they signed autographs with invisible but all too real fans
I slipped off into the other room and put on some loud Grand Funk
It was my way to escape the reality of such a sad day in the history of Rock and Roll
I still listen to Elvis’s songs, only now I enjoy them without the dumb blonde
Who used to sing along…
Note: M.M. is now living somewhere in Las Vegas with her favorite cactus, but I will bet you today she's outside Graceland standing next to some other impersonator