Las Vegas Actually Sucks

No sleep.

No water.

Dry mouth seems to be the onluy taste available.

No reach or want for what is close.

Only hardships are available.

Thee isn't much around in this deserted place we call home.

Barren and bleek.

Grown from a bad suburb in a bad city in a bad desert.

Hot and terrible it is.

Strippers are aligned with sex shops aligning with drive-thru weddings.

Nothing is sacred in a town like this.

Who would live here?

Anyone who's stupid enough to work for the touring mind.

Its hell, but its the only home we've grown to know.

What can you do?

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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