On the Day that Elvis Died

On the day that Elvis died, Our mother took To the living room couch  And cocooned herself With grief. We, her children, didn’t react. We were accustomed To her displays of ostentatious Sadness. She always emerged From her days or weeks Of self-exile. She’d stand, Unfurl her wings, and fly Into a domestic rage. She’d wash dishes and vacuum With a soldier’s fury. The world is ending, She’d say. The world Is ending. She was addicted To the apocalyptic. We, Her children, would retreat To our bedrooms, practicing Neutrality as our mother fought Her latest skirmish with doom. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit shermanalexie.substack.com/subscribe