On the theme of Elvis
Kreyol Elvis
Elvis
Was born a voodoo child
Born in the land that all forgot
Where the trees disappeared
And the waters sought to eat everything up
Where the earth shook with disapproval
And disaster followed disaster
Ayiti, mother of the earth
Sad eyed lady of the Caribe
Heartbreak Hotel of Hispanola
Elvis
Coming out of his mother’s womb
A great vodou boko in training
Took the soul of his silent brother
Now a zonbi still-born spirit
A spirit that would give him
Graceland in a world
Where grace was hard to find
Elvis
With double soul and double passion
From the little lakay where he lived
Found his fathers’ guitar to soothe him
And the compass of the kompa
To lead him through the days
As his mother shouted don’t be cruels
To his father, lost, deranged, absent
Elvis
Grew into his father’s guitar
Fingers fretting with a wide smile
A swagger to a frail frame
Beau Gosse and hound dog
He would play for the plantations
Strumming his way to Carrefour
To Delmas and Port-au-Prince
Elvis
Heard new sounds from across the ocean
Sounds that rattled low in his chest
And beats that no drum could make
Singing, singing to his double spirit
And woy! woy! they went
He was all shook up, let loose
Flailing, possessed on his guitar
To make sounds he never knew
Elvis
Lead forth a new band
With a hard headed woman
Manbo vodou priestess
And they would sing at duet
And they would shake and rattle
And the people would shake and rattle
And the people would howl
Howl hard across the nearby waters
As if take them faraway
To Jamaica, to Cuba, to Ozetazini
United States so far and forgone
To forget and forget all things
Their own sadness there
In Ayiti, mother of the earth
Elvis
Mobbed by the masses
Bought blue suede shoes
And climbed up to Peitionville
High in the hills
Where he would play
For the colonels and the cadres
And their flowing haired wives
Speaking in good French
Oh, so comment appel tu?
And the wine would flow
And his manbo priestess grew wild
In late cocaine nights
And mornings of suspicious minds
Elvis
Opened his eyes one night
Wearing a suit of sweat
Naked and alone, skin on fire
His fevered eyes filled
With his zonbi brother
Infant child in blood
Lighting up the dark with words
Return to sender, return to sender
And Elvis screamed and cried
What have I done? What have I done?
Elvis
Grew drunk and ragged
Falling about the stages
Lost in a moody blue
As this world he’d created
Suddenly looked to eat him up
Eaten away time after time like
Ayiti, mother of the earth
Elvis
On the beach
When the sea opened up
Was pulled into the void
Pulled into the sea
To mix with the fish and the foam
Pulled away, far away
Leaving just his double soul
To walk with the fireflies
And whisper to all the children
Hidden behind guitars, here in
Ayiti, mother of the earth
Sad eyed lady of the Caribe
Heartbreak Hotel of Hispanola
Author Biography
Tom Mangione is a writer and musician living in Shanghai, China. He’s been previously published by Cha and HAL Literature, and runs a bilingual Chinese-English poetry group called United Verses (www.unitedverses.com). When he’s not waxing lyrical or spinning yarns, he plays as Ho-Tom the Conqueror in The Horde (thehorde.bandcamp.com).