Walking into the Wynn, Las Vegas, and You Are Stitched Into

Walking into The Wynn, Las Vegas, and You Are Stitched Into

Poem by Rose Hunter
Art by Dorothee Lang

a dishtowel in a fruit-festooned
kitchen when you’ve stumbled
out of bed, hungover
while someone showered shaved
dressed booms
Good morning sunshine!
crunch of his breakfast cereal
flinging the curtains

open; the glass the
butterflies the baubled
trees the toy trains

dendrite tiles
and Jamaica calyces
under your feet

all that ruby
whispering to the lime:
clearly, for this job,
you need
to be something
other than you are

something more or less, human

at least, the Dior woman and
the bronze shoe
turn their golden shoulders

as the workers on the Encore
inch up the great scallop shape,
a see-sawing handkerchief
past the brown windows

with chalk and SC, OX; HI!
giant fingerprints, missing panes;

orange vest daubs and hardhats and
the floating steps below
with toy shovels and
wheelbarrows and bulldozers

backs to the cathedral
where Penance, Prayer and Peace

surround their own blue sky
faces turned, to their God

as the MGM Grand
its colour alone
a ping-pong ball

at your head
doesn’t hurt, but

the MGM Grand

lions flapping sad tails
against the glass
fish tank

the MGM Grand

a jukebox with
all the songs playing
at once; an exit

if you can find it
won’t begin to answer
your question: where

did you come from and
where are you going (two
questions I mean);

to the Stratosphere;
beyond the pool wall
the desert spills out
Chipotle, Tabasco, Búfalo,
Valentino, with drops

of salsa verde. Between

the bench press and upright
row, a man says. Rock island
( ), and the water-
fall; to the Golden Nugget;

if I were a shark
I too would regard
with a disdainful
overbite, the species who
put me in a tank
circled by a pool
and who waterslide
through the middle


but I am a shark; a
gummy, my tank the lobbies and
hallways; the borders and
brocades and chandelier
details: coral, and the elevator
buttons – I am a gummy-
mouthed nudger of
elevator buttons:

are all very different & over
and over the same but
very different but the same but.

-refers from the word sharks in Scot Siegel’s poem in the absence of stars tonight, gulls

  1. Wow! I am honored to share a first name 🙂

  2. We seem to have a lot of Rose;s and Scot/t’s who are contributors and/or fans/submitters!

  3. Lynn Stanton

    Wow, is right!

  4. Thanks Lynn! I told Rose H that a long poem really has to have some power to keep me reading so she pulled it off!

  5. I like the stream of consciousness thing. I had a summer job back in college as a collection agent in Reno. The MGM was just across the way. “A jukebox with all the songs playing at once” is a good way to describe the atmosphere of a casino, not to mention the gaudy colors and thick smoke. We would go there for cheap dinners and gamble with coupons. Sometimes we would win our dinner back, but mostly not. -scot

  6. I bet being a collection agent in Reno is its own fantastic story!

  7. Nice photo Dorothee! 🙂

  8. and great poem! – i now even remembered the place where i took the image: the Stardust. and then looked for a map: the Wynn is just sideways across the street from the Stardust. (which actually doesn’t exist anymore). a note on the photo, with various references included, is now up here in my blog:

  9. ha! i tried to include a clickable link, up came the invisible dust of empty space.
    so here, the link, plain but hopefully visible: http://virtual-notes.blogspot.com/2010/05/referential-sincerity.html

  10. Love the interaction between artist, writer and readers. That was a lovely side effect when I redesigned the site!

  11. just returned to this poem – after reading another Vegas poem. now i wished i was there again for a day, for the surreal vibe. (here’s the other Vegas tale: http://52250flash.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/colonial-contestants-by-robert-vaughan )

  12. Thanks for sharing the link Dorothee! I’ve only ever been to the Vegas airport and that was surreal enough on its own!

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