Today's poem is by Kathy Pollitt, "Cities of the Plain"
After he vaporized the pleasure gardens,
The temples of Luck and Mirrors, the striped
Tents of the fortune-tellers,
After he rained down sulfur
On the turquoise bathes, the peacock market,
The street of painted boys,
Obliterated the city, with all its people,
Down to the last stray cat and curious stink,
He missed them. Killing them
Made him want to kill them again --
How cleverly they escaped him,
Hiding in the corners and laughing
Just out of sight!
Being God, he wouldn't permit himself regrets.
There would be other cities, just as wicked.
But none like Sodom, none like Gomorrah.
Probably He has been angry ever since --
Angry and lonely.
Yes, it's a bit heavy handed of me to add a picture of the Las Vegas strip, but both gambling in general and the enormous waste of water resources in that dessert are horrible to me. I know Pollitt is forgiving of human needs and that pin prick to my puritanical attitude is part of the reason I like this poem.
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