Articles by Brian Jackson
I Had a Dream about Las Vegas
22 March 2012
The following is scrawled in my journal:
City of lights and painted whores,
Whose crowded sidewalks often store
The blood and beaded sweat of those
Who brave the heat, who come and go;
O town of sodom, bold and brash,
Your asphault, stone, and molten ash
Conceal the truth, that beneath them dust
And sand are underneath the lusts--
And someday, they will take it back,
Replace the lights with midnight's black.
The ground will open before your eyes
To claim the men anesthetized;
And yet, until that cold wind blows,
"What happens in Vegas," the saying goes.
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