Fall-Winter 2015

Elvis is burning.

His hair is in flames. He rises, arms outstretched. The ashes of his body float down over me. Salty, dusty kisses fall on my lips like moth wings.

My soul is hungry for his light, for his grace. Cocaine flash bulbs firing in the dark matter. My eyes scorched by his blinding white jumpsuit. I want all of him. I want to consume him as he consumes me. I throw myself on the pyre so I can rise as well.

The Lamb of God rotates on a spit. Fat crackling. Neurons firing as I crunch his bones between my smooth molars. The body, the blood. I eat him, as I have eaten all of God’s gentle creatures. Greedily. Insatiably. Insufferably.