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Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
An excerpt from the book, How to Survive the Walk Home From Vegas, After Losing Your Shirt.

"...an interesting thing about
road ****--it's better the second day."
Whit Howland Jul 2019
Today sunny
thunderhead
loomed on the horizon

but the storm never happened

wind warm
touch of chill
blew gently

but the storm never happened

all day I waited
behind the eyes
a slot machine
spinning wheels
one round in the chamber

but the storm never happened

whit howland © 2019
Kathleen Apr 2013
For the record, I suppose it should be stated I lost my soul in Vegas.
I would love to go back there and find it among those glittering lights and buffet tables of never-ending artful desserts.
It's funny that all I really remember are those pretty desserts and fried mashed potatoes.
I want those things back.

I'm like a raver with those lights.
I want to consume them.
I want to glow in my pores.
Not the cliched glow that wraps itself around the impregnated many,
but the glow that comes from sitting next to neon for too long.
That it could somehow stain you.
Rub off like fairy dust on skin.
That I could fly away due to its energy or wishful thinking.

Take me back to Vegas,
where they still hand that out for free by the boatload.
I need not gamble.
I need not glad-hand.
I would simply sit idly by the buzzing of pinks and blues and greens and reds.
And me and those cheap 1920's lights will have a moment,
a moment I can share with the cocktail waitress who asks me for the third time if I'm sure I don't need a little refresher drink.
Simone Gabrielli May 2019
Stargazing cactus bloom
desert daydream
skipping salted stones
lost highway
The Mojave a light with
fire flowers
road side decor
for this age of weekend hotel floors
arid breeze
kissing us dizzy
gambled, addicted
visiting Mirage down in the valley below
city glow
dark hair,
light eyes
foreign tongue I love you so
Sweet tequila
lifted above the ground
spin me, spin me, that gleeful aquarius sheen
you're amazing
you're a light in my life, Casino Moonshine
switching gears, half eaten diner meals
roadside pitstops for broken windows
whistling wind
like a gilded finch.
Joshua trees from over Nordic seas
soft skin getting lucky 7 spins
tingling touch
dark lidded lust
euphoric hymm
it's him it's him it's him
orange sky
brusts bright
in my tired amphetamine eyes
Sudipta Maity Feb 2019
If I say you girl
you are inside
my neuron world.
Would you belive?
Or if I send you a mail
MRI scan report attatched.
Will you read?
Belive me or not.
The sparking in
my Vegas nerve are not lying.
An afgan ****.
***** to ***
Whiskey to Wine
I had tried everything-
the doctor pescribed.
But,  it's my nercotic nerve
stop receiving all signals
It polarised at my SA and AV node
by your high sugar smile.
Kathryn Rose Mar 2018
Imperfect child, imperfect man
Shouts from his father looking down with shame
Stuck in his head like demons in the flame

Giving the love he never found
Making family out of friends
Desperate for a full heart

Always searching
Never receiving
Depression looms
Trusting the demons in reality
Holding on to something he can't see
While paper crowds his home
Hoping paper will block the void he feels every day

Happiness existed
Only in the city of lights
Torturous summers, capable winters
She broke his dream

Immediate recognition does not come
Perseverance fading quickly

Screaming child inside him
Eternal college experience of brotherhood, beer, whiskey and Vegas trips
Living through the joy of children

Desperate to find a woman
A woman that won't die
A woman that won't disappear
Someone he won't disappoint
if I
saw Norah
Jones this
time while
they'd freak
out and
lost their
marbles that
never cried
again Saturday
Night when
I thought
never to
get rest
with her
I care
to date
A Norah Jones Story
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