A Poem by Carol Ann Duffy

I happened upon this poem by accident.

Elvis's Twin Sister

In the convent, y'all,

I tend the gardens,

watch things grow,

pray for the immortal soul

of rock 'n' roll.

 

They call me

Sister Presley here,

The Reverend Mother

digs the way I move my hips

just like my brother.

 

Gregorian chant

drifts out across the herbs

Pascha nostrum immolatus est...

I wear a simple habit,

darkish hues,

 

a wimple with a novice-sewn

lace band, a rosary,

a chain of keys,

a pair of good and sturdy

blue suede shoes.

 

I think of it

as Graceland here,

a land of grace.

It puts my trademark slow lopsided smile

back on my face.

 

Lawdy.

I'm alive and well.

Long time since I walked

down Lonely Street

towards Heartbreak Hotel