He was the Voice made flesh;
The King of rock n' roll.
He was a secular Christ in
A diamond studded jumpsuit;
A plastic poltroon so regal,
In a gleaming pink limousine.
He had a flabby belly; full
Of burgers and barbiturates,
And an iconic mansion filled
With piles of expensive junk;
With a prized telephone made of gold
He was the American Dream made real;
From scarred realms of ragged poverty,
To the bovine light of bloated riches.
Now a thousand clowns impersonate
His gilded, gluttonous legacy
He was the Voice made flesh;
The King of Rock N' Roll.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem... lets rock everybody