On Being Las Vegas
The way I jut up and shimmer,
sun glinting off my reflective surface
while I am at rest in the day, lethargic
behind sunglasses that suggest
I do better in the dark
when the moon looms big or not at all
over this bustling hive, this faster Egypt
risen with less detail, but still a flash
in the pan, a momentary, necessary scar
scratched across the face of the Earth.
7 thoughts on "On Being Las Vegas"
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the movement in that piece, internal rhymes, effortless song. and quick, passing, a flash – but slows on a hard line “scratched across the face of the Earth.”
other words – love it
Fantastic!
What Manny and Linda said.
Especially love: “necessary scar
scratched across the face of the Earth.”
I love the voice you give to this city. Fantastic images, especially the scar. Selfishly, I’d love to hear the voice you give to my beloved New York!
👀 I love New York and I love a challenge…
Wow! I love the concept of this poem. Shew: “this faster Egypt/risen with less detail,” yes!
Thank you all!!