What Happens In Vegas…

not everything speaks
nor is it
necessarily silent—the artificial
painted sky inside
the casino
pastel clouds on elusive blue
neoclassical statuary…
what I want
but won’t purchase—
green or pink gelato, your view
of reality
this is…Venice?
of course not
we’re inside
an enormous building
inside
and idea of a city
in the Nevada desert
where fake gondoliers
are actually
poling real
fake gondolas
and singing
arias
in real Italian
to actual tourists

the mime is silent
sheathed in white, or is it shrouded
blank
as the unlined page
but for a dollar
she will smile and
gesture you over
to have your picture taken
with her
this was startling
as if she’d spoken
words of endearment
or if, after all this
I myself had fallen silent.

***
This poem appeared recently in the fabulous “What Rough Beast.” http://www.indolentbooks.com/what-rough-beast-poem-for-april-24-2017/


This is a mock up of a sculpture that will be in the desert, sponsored by a casino.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized by Miriam Sagan. Bookmark the permalink.

About Miriam Sagan

I'm blogging about poetry, land art, haiku, women artists, road trips, and Baba Yaga at Miriam's Well (https://miriamswell.wordpress.com). The well is ALWAYS looking to publish poetry on our themes, sudden fiction, and guest bloggers and musers.

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