Scottsdale 101
From the corner of 42nd and Shea, my city is a prostitute.
She lives on the skin of my existence, in my pores,
and when the lampposts shine it’s like the towers of Babel.
It sparkles on the tip of my tongue and then
the concrete angels in the driveways sing.
My city sleeps by day and is alive by night,
when the shadows thicken with her steady breath of
in and out.
The antennas and whir of vehicles—
all the inner working of a well-oiled machine
come together.
My heart tumbles as her people stalk the darkness;
burglars behind jewels,
my lady is a fraud.
By midnight she is dancing on the cheese-moon,
with miniature mountains lit by sharp electricity lighting her way.
Some disturbing music plays in the distance,
almost vulgar in her wake.
The coyotes scream and she gives me no peace.
The wind and tar upon the streets
make for a noxious perfume.
I hold my breath against her menacing pulse,
waiting for her to turn out the light so I can get some sleep.
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It's a prostitute because it sells you its soul but leaves you unsatisfied, and the bit about Babel is showing it's power rather than beauty/refineness.
Wow, we are so close.
I almost know exactly how this feels. (I live in Gilbert)
Both physically and mentally. If that makes sense
However, I dont feel it is as "Las Vegas" as you make it sound.
But this is just my view.
"From the corner of 42nd and Shea, my city is a prostitute.
She lives on the skin of my existence, in my pores,
and when the lampposts shine it’s like the towers of Babel.
It sparkles on the tip of my tongue and then
the concrete angels in the driveways sing."
The part about prostitute doesn't make much sense to me. You start with explain with this part, but then move to the tower of Babel. So at first its a dirty tramp, and then it turns to a beautiful tower, i just can't make sense of it.