A Little Over 60 Hours: Post Card from Vegas
Aaron Henkelman

                                                 …know when to run.

                                                                        Kenny Rogers

Urinal glycerin drips       &       drips           for a healthier environment
Disguise the desert (dessert) in coats of Paris, Egypt, New York, profanity, HUMANITY
Luxor spotlight on God-Here, He has sweaty balls like me
                                                 Crying out for bag balm, BAG BALM, Goldbond, TALC
                                                 Bowlegged, like carrying weight tethered to genitals
A NASCAR fan called me "Skippy" at the hold 'em table
His sister sat on his lap-I hope they weren't related
The toothless dealer thought, "they GET to leave"
                                                 I agreed
                                                 A Hawaiian transplant just informed me
It's 3:30 a.m. Vegas time, 5:30 mine, the only time is wrist time
It is every light of every light all night every night
A gluttonness sunset that never gets down on itself unless it's down
                                                 15 hundred on Sunday
                                                 Here till Friday, we're leaving tomorrow
Scraping the man-lakes for silly quarters delivered by wish-me-lucks
& there's the Eiffel Tower, they bought the Eiffel tower
& set it across the street from a thirty foot Harley being launched out of, you guessed
            it, a Harley shop-the Statue of Liberty is down the street, PEACE
                                                 The high altitude flatulence
                                                 Becomes appropriate
The 14th century never appeared as hopeless as a roulette wheel, save here
Wax paper toilet seats become quite manageable with practice
Men's public restrooms always sound the same, ripping paper and beating drums
                                                 A bad beat gets you a jackpot spin
                                                 Unless you're at the 1 & 3 table
Fuck, that ignorant son-of-a-bitch goes to a Jesuit school in Ohio, I have all of his
            money
English 555's spin your head if you smoke a fine Turkish blend for 15 years
Mario Andretti blew a couple of hundred at the Let It Ride table
                                                 I asked him,
                                                 "Has anybody ever said you drive like Mario Andretti?"
He put a fat little index finger to his lips, got up, and left.