My apologies to the good folks of Las Vegas,
most of whom never make their way
to the Strip
unless they work here
(or so the few I've talked with have said),
and no doubt
there are other seedy, sad, money-grubbing,
    facile pockets of American culture,
but none (with the possible exception of Wall Street)
seems quite so intent on capitalizing
on its own emptiness,
so proud of it,
so unabashadly without a point:

    "I am an expensive, wasteful facade,
    an oasis of onanistic self-interest.
    I feed on your lust, insecurity, greed and sadness–
    one more spin,
    one more nearly naked woman (or man),
    one more star appearance
    and you'll be there–
    clutching whatever piece is missing from your puzzle–
    I hold it, just beyond your reach."

I have a feeling
the Las Vegas Strip
is glad to see me go.

Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.