I knew Elvis

    I knew Elvis.
Six feet tall and gangly.
Didn’t play very well.
Shy. Slow learner.

Kind as the day was long.
Hot summer heat of Memphis
Literally melts the asphalt.
Thick black hair. Sunk eyes.

Southern.
What is the meaning, anyway.
Southern?
He knew. We all knew.

Imagine him going by
Aaron (Aron).
It fit much better.
But Elvis is the one who died.

I guess I should say,
I knew Aron. Southern.
To the core.
Hound dog and all.