Vegas
Across the open trackless
waste of nothing
The big emptiness of sand and
grit
Bare and featureless but for random
rocks
A burned brown mineral
wilderness
Of yellows, oranges and golden
reds
Small, sharp shadows etched
into the earth
By a relentless sun that
scorches
And torches out its solar
energy
Unchanging, fierce and blazing
A crumbled endless horizon, heat-hazed
Beyond the cactus-pocked
wasteland
Its desert spikes the only
landmarks
In the monotonous sprawl
Fit only for snakes and
scorpions
And bleached-white bones
Scoured and scrubbed,
sand-blasted testament
To creatures that once expired
Fried alive, tired and
shrivelled
Beaten by heat and thirst, died
years before
In vain attempts to cross the
arid expanse
The dust eddies and aimless whorls
Tormented, driven by staccato wisps
of wind
Mindless in their rolling, roiling,
Un-tamed in their blowing,
drifting, piling
Through the thin air of
nothingness
Scraping and scratching all
before them
Hot-raked, parched and toasted
In this waterless wasteland of
nowhere
And the vast-canvas painted
azure mid-day sky
A painful, acid-hard brittle mono-blue
Shimmers unending, clear and
cloudless
Oxygen-free and static-loaded
An all-embracing carapace of
glare
Mantling over distant concrete
structures
The Strip, Caesar’s Palace and
Luxor
White and crimson neon ads
rolling
Enticing punters from hot sidewalks
Enticing punters from hot sidewalks
To step inside their cool and
dark interiors
For cold beers, slots and
tables
The flimsy-dressed hostesses
shivering
In the chill of dam-powered
air-conditioning
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