Among these godly spires:

Hot streets that gleam
harvesting
tourists from afar
pockets romancing
neon ***** and slots

our tables laid out to serve them
sliding doors and rollercoasters,
they are all ours

i dwell in its butterfly wings

with others who have stood
the fat rain and desert hail
in spring time
Crackling skeletal skeins
of lightning

Oh life, i am on-watcher...
blind from the sights,

sleep stealing summers
heat so disfiguring,
no longer listening
to cassettes in the car
melted like Dali art

the sun is a horrible comedian...
our winters are kite killing
my nose feels as if locked
by Samsonite
Winds wailing below freezing…

Among these lit boxes
copy cats and volcanic hopes
Mirage
through trials and tides
of creative construction of yore
most still stand *****

gambling on dreams
on days unkind, here i am
being pitied
a unicorn

losing / winded / coming out un-even
alive tho trying
to enjoy / her
admirable rivers of new
peoples and foods
fire-breathing signs
she has many stories up
beneath
her evening skin
& cold silver teeth

while i am young
she flashes me
underground
and
glowing candies...

Las Vegas

is my Grease-Lightning
and seductive Sandy.