In garish lands we pray our jingles
Full of pump and dump lyrics
And mistletoe romance.
And greet the new night
With freedom damn freedom
Kissing our showgirls... away from our wives.
Glass shattered honesty pickled with petrol
And dangling sympathy upended in misery
The tinsel and bribery packed away and forgotten.
A nod to the lenten ones, with sacrifice nibbling
At the ego-laced brains caught perpetually dealing.
This night, this tomorrow, this light, now extinguished.
Neon lights,
Dancing fountains,
Sun rising,
Over the mountains.
Roulette tables,
Blackjack and poker,
Winning is fun,
Losing’s a choker.
Showgirls in feathers,
Elvis dressed in white,
Volcanic water show,
A splendid sight.
Hotels, casinos,
Shopping and more,
Wedding chapels,
Shows galore.
Fun filled days,
Joyful nights,
This is Las Vegas,
With its glorious sights.
"Get yourself a pack of gum
and come On out Kid," he wrote,
enclosing the newspaper ad for aspiring
models and showgirls. My gay best
friend who skipped town for a better life
in L. A. He's the one who sent money
for my son's ballet lessons from his paycheck
at the I. Magnin department store,
where he was shown fitting a movie star
for her wedding gown (does anyone
remember Margaret O'Brian?) Child Star Gets
Married) everything recherche' or
something like that. Some people never
leave your heart because Gee Whiz,
the Beauty he thought I was, never left his.
He got his jollies imagining me floating
cloudlike down a staircase, arms
wide to the world at the Zeigfield Follies,
feathered and plumed, a jewel
in my navel-- so ahead of its time.
Born to captivate Cooper
and Gable in Busby Berkerley
perfection on some circa
50's Silver Screen: Girl-
Power in Perpetuity.
A piddle of puppies, a pimp of johns,
A flood of plumbers, and a regatta of swans.
A charm of finches, a wriggle of sperms,
A sleaze of lawyers, and a sneeze of germs.
a gam of showgirls, a basket of buns,
a shrug of mechanics, and a groan of puns.
A fidget of boy scouts, a gross of farts,
A sulk of teens, and a valentine of hearts.
Vegas Craps
Showgirls dance at noon;
Over Sin City hangs the moon,
On the strip I cruise.
One-armed bandits shine;
Wayne Newton lights up the night,
Flying Elvis' dine
Tigers start to leap;
Sun shines as tired gamblers sleep,
Buffet patrons eat.
Call girls dream of fun;
Neon fuels the Vegas sun,
Hustler's on the run.
Black Jack Baby hides,
Bugsy Siegel's paradise,
Cheaters pay the price.
Rat Pack waves goodbye;
Morning drained our pockets dry,
On the road I cry.
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