Las Vegas on a Business Trip

Our neon Gomorrah

carved out of drought and sand,

abundant with sweat and makeup,

a craven blight upon the land.

Stinging with eye smoke

and loneliness,

crumpled souls

beg with quiet faces

for something better,

something real. 

At the Convention Center

At the convention center

people wait

to start their day

smile and shake hands

and things are all O.K.

echoes in the large, cool rooms

as people mouth the lines

they need to speak

the trip justified

an expense account,

a line checked off

A life of unpacking

and catching the next plane:

awake, realize what you have

and dissipate this pain