26
THE MICHIGAN QUARTERLY REVIEW
PAINKILLERS
The King of rock 'n roll
grown pudgy, almost matronly,
Fatty in gold lame,
mad king encircled
by a court of guards, suffering
delusions about assassination,
obsessed by guns, fearing
rivalry and revolt
popping his skin
with massive hits of painkiller
dying at 42.
What was the pain?
Pain had been the colors
of the bad boy with the sneer.
The story of pain, of separation,
was the divine comedy
he had translated
from black into white.
For white children too
the act of naming the pain
unsheathed
a keen joy at the heart of it.
Here they are still!
the disobedient
who keep a culture alive
by subverting it, turning
for example a subway
into a garden of graffiti.
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