The Long Couch in Memphis
by Anastasia Clark
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When I was twenty
I visited Elvis- or should I say
The estate of Elvis
They call it Graceland
And it was quite the land
Of Cadillacs and opulence
And bright sequin costumes
Did you know it is a cemetery?
And there was a wall of
Televisions- and a room of
Jungle animals, shag rugs
And rooms we couldn’t see
But what intrigued me most
Was certainly the long couch
The longest I had ever seen
They said it was custom-made
And it must have been
But now it was empty-
Guarded by velvet ropes
And imaginary horsemen
Standing, in imaginary uniforms
At the far end
Of the long, jilted room.
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