Elvis Cake

On the day we gave you the Elvis cake,
and the siblings came together
for the first [last] time in years,
you were – as ever – absent,
or acting such.
You do a good bewildered and bemused.
You sat, like Yoda, but without the wisdom,
and let it all wash around you,
with that tiny passive smile,
and that look in the eyes
of secret contempt for us all.
Contempt that we’d come together to celebrate you.
Contempt because you know how little you deserve it,
when you know what you’ve done to us,
and how we should really react.
It just confirms what you’ve always felt.
But the kids you’ve more than once said “should have been periods”
have bought you cake.
Elvis cake.
Elvis guitar cake.
And you never could stand him.

So, of course, you take a slice.
So, of course, you’re almost impressed.
So, of course, you’ll leave the complaints for later.

Mike Hickman (@MikeHicWriter) is a writer from York, England. He has written for Off the Rock Productions (stage and audio), including 2018’s “Not So Funny Now” about Groucho Marx and Erin Fleming. He has recently been published in EllipsisZine, Dwelling Literary, Bandit Fiction, Nymphs, Flash Fiction Magazine, Brown Bag, and Safe and Sound Press. His co-written, completed six-part BBC radio sit com remains unproduced but available to interested producers!

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *