THEY DON’T TELL YOU THIS
They always tell you Las Vegas is the wedding capital of the United States. As I’m waiting for a cab to the airport, I get talking to the couple in the queue next to me. They’ve been in Vegas to get married at one of the big casino hotels and took a honeymoon suite with 1800 square feet of floor-space. “That’s bigger than many homes in the UK,” I say. “That’s bigger than many homes in the United States,” they reply.
Honeymoon in Vegas
– in a bridal suite bigger than the home they’ll share
On the flight home, I get talking to a professional gambler returning from a poker tournament. He says you can make a living out of poker – as long as you understand the math. “Every hand gives you a slight edge or slight disadvantage. Professional players always take an edge in their favour and shy away from hands where the numbers are against them. It’s not about luck – but I do like playing against people who think it’s all about luck, as that gives me an edge.”
The King, Queen and Jack show no favours
– they are all slaves to the laws of probability
What they don’t tell you in the guide books is that along with being the centre of the gambling universe, Las Vegas is also the suicide capital of the United States.
In the casinos, there is no day or night
– just unlimited hope and unrealisable expectations
I LOVE VEGAS
It may be kitsch.
It may be ersatz.
It may be open to criticism
on grounds of bad taste
and of being one enormous
well oiled, ruthlessly efficient
money extraction machine.
But it is executed with such style
such audacity, such panache
and on a truly awesome scale
that you just have to admire it.
No, you have to love it.
Las Vegas in June –
the hissing of sprinklers
on astro turf
Published in Gift (Gatehouse Press) 2007
TRUE CALLING
At a stripped-pine table, in a French-style cafe near to Oxford Circus in the West End of London, sits an elderly Buddhist monk in crimson robes – I think he may be Tibetan. Taking advantage of the free wi-fi internet access available in this cafe, as he sips hot drinking chocolate from a large bowl, he surfs the web on an old Apple Mac laptop computer.
he’s in cyberspace
searching for enlightenment
– on Google
FLYING TO VIENNA
Flying to Vienna. Out today and back tomorrow. Check-in, customs and security. No creams, no blades, no liquids, no gels, no toothpaste. Shoes off, belts off, phones off, take off. Viewed from above, the wind-teased cloud tops are the same colour and consistency as the froth on the cappuccino I drank in the departure lounge.
at thirty-six thousand feet
the sky
is always blue
Sachertorte, einspanner coffee, sturm, schnitzel and strudel. On the journey home, the only excess baggage I’m carrying is around my waist. Along with German MTV, ads for chocolate cake and dubbed episodes of Mr Bean, the in-flight entertainment video monitors display our location, our altitude, our speed and the outside temperature.
framed against
the curvature of the Earth
the plane’s wing rimed with frost
Published in Blithe Spirit (17/1) - March 2007
Published in Haibun Today - April 2008
Published in Haibun Today - April 2008