
Such attractive curves;
dormant, ever volcanic—
erupts sans warning.

Such attractive curves;
dormant, ever volcanic—
erupts sans warning.

Our earth will be fine:
from dead trees leaves sprout anew;
humanity won’t.

Across the water
smugly the city awaits,
for us to sail home.

Just look hard enough
life gives us all comedy
even on the street.

Lighting up the sky,
optimists’ beacon of hope—
casino city.