Elvis at the dinner party

Elvis at the dinner party

By Stacey Tolbert

Once upon a time on a Friday night…

Elvis kept calling my cellie

Cuz everybody knows He’s not dead right?

asked me where he could trade in

His white blue suede shoes for

new black red Kicks

dred his hair

Botox his lips

And get this?

Said

Had

Mandingo

DICK

Tatorship going on in Texas and now he’s drivin’ a lexus

And of course

He has the utmost respect for us

Who made him

The jazziest/blusiest/swinginest/palest/bojangles

He is/was

Was/is

Still in bizz

And I’m like

Elvis pleaassee I’m in the middle of dinner

To which he replied

"LOVE …me…ten….der….."

and surrender to my

afro stealin

charm

I told him enough was enough

He already done walked away with all

Of our stuff

I put away my cell walked over to my table

He left another message cuz he startin his own label..

As I sat at the table like a holyghost mouse I

Was Mmmmesermerized and full of emmmmoootion while I sat back and enjoyed

A small amount of commotion

See I was havin dinner with M’s

Marley/Marcus/Malcolm/Martin

The waitress was so confused by all the vibes she was getting

Marcus asked her straight up and down if we could have a space of our

Own

To which she replied

"you mean, in this restaurant or in this town?"

Malcolm asked her

How could she see with all that make up covering her natural beauty and why wasn’t

she proud of real kinky hair?

To which she replied

"I have to wear make up or I look plain my hair done gone back to African cuz I was in

the rain."

Marley was slightly upset cuz there was no vegetarian dish so he asked for some

plantains and what was her wish?

To which she replied

"These days I neva really thought about my wish but I guess I would want to get me a

new satellite dish cuz mine is on the brinks and so I cant watch TV…and I guess also

to spend more time with V…that’s my daughter, she 3 and look like me…she gonna be

just like me."

Martin said nothing but extended his hand

The waitress just looked at the eyes of every man

And there I was with all the M’s

Waiting for the Evolution to begin

The waitress left

And as she walked away

She ran her fingers through her hair

And started wiping her make up away

Gandhi came over and wished us peace

And a few slaves stopped by drenched in ocean breeze

The four girls from the bomb gently kissed me on my cheek

Still dressed in church clothing and Sunday school speak

And Elvis still kept callin my cellie

Leaving me numeric messages of urgency

Last thing he said was he was makin a movie

Bout the return of his legend

And that it was groovy

I left quietly

And tossed out my cell phone

And the M’s told me to

Live the movement, be the movement, spread the movement as I journeyed home . . .

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Anastacia Tolbert is a writer of poetry, prose, plays, and journalism. She is a graduate of the Cave Canem program for African American poets and holds an undergraduate degree in English and Creative Writing from the University of Missouri at Kansas City. She is currently Resident Writer at the Seattle Girls School.

She received a 2004 San Diego Journalism Press Club Award for her article “War Torn.” In 2007, she wrote, co-produced and co-directed GOTBREAST?, a documentary about women and body image. She has taught writing, poetry and performance workshops to students of all ages at schools, literary centers, battered women’s shelters, youth camps, and libraries.

Anastacia’s poetry and prose have appeared in many journals and magazines, including Essence and San Diego City Beat, as well as in the anthologies Cave Canem XI, Alehouse Journal, The Drunken Boat, Check the Rhyme: An Anthology of Female Poets & Emcees (which was nominated for the 2007 NAACP Award), and I Woke Up and Put My Crown On: 76 Voices of African American Women. She has performed her poetry in more than fifty venues, including colleges, writers’ conferences, and art museums, and as a featured artist on six radio stations.

Anastacia says of her work:

When I was growing up in the Midwest in the late 70s and 80s, women writers were typically stereotyped as "gifted" but poor, wishful bohemians -- people proud to be labeled writers while suffering from acute cases of “starving artist syndrome.” I distinctly remember a journalism professor telling me in front of an ambitious class of fifty that I would never be able to do anything with my creative writing skills, except maybe copy editing... if I was lucky, and that I should immediately come to the realization that I would never generate income doing creative writing...and no one outside of my family would ever read my work. Fortunately, I don't believe in luck and I was an active participant in watching my writing goals manifest.

She is the Author of Baring My Soul, Playwright of the drama A Quarter Past The Blues, freelance writer of various print and online magazines spoken wordist, motivational speaker and Workshop facilitator of Healertainment, C.P.A.M. and Sistainment-GirlsGroup workshops.

My poetic form uses white space as narrator and seeks to be a drum for feminism, race, sexuality, trauma and grief. My poems often reflect on a succinct moment, using voice or character development

Anastacia Tolbert is a multifarious mix of grit, sunshine, alphabet juice & butterflies. She is a writer, performance artist, documentarian, teacher and workshop facilitator.

* * * * *

update 22 march 2010