Ph: Life: Safe In Las Vegas Poem by Brian Johnston

With an oxymoron for a title
It would seem my poem should be over
And in fact I guess it nearly is.
City built at Hell’s very door
Sell your future for a thrill ride
‘At least I know where I’m going, ’
Some might say,
‘What could be more horrific than Paradise? ’
‘Death on a cross, proof of God’s love? ’
‘Maybe my dad wasn’t that bad? ’
‘I could run away from him! ’
God’s Love Equals Martyrdom,
That should sell like hot cakes!

Safe in Las Vegas, how is that again?
What might it be you really are safe from?
Earthquakes seem likely, knees are knocking
Disasters on steroids temporarily on pause.
Losers spend money like water,
But Las Vegas itself has none
Aquifers parched as the desert above.
Dollars pass for toilet paper in this town
Time is such a sad story here
Like life itself having no value,
Wheels always spinning their lies
Really you still feel safe here?
Plastic is the only way to know I AM.