Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Thanksgiving at the Taj


From behind the one-armed bandits slowly rise the silky turbans, little fish with big eyes on the moll óir, with no one around to tap on the aquarium glass.

Sikhs playing slots
Koreans playing keno
Punjabis playing pai gow poker
and blackjack for the gent from Bình Dương

Outside the parlor...
Mothers crouch upon faded sheets spread over ornate carpet
Miserable babies squeal under the sequined light of bristling chandeliers
Soiled diapers sit in sandy ashtrays, silently mocking the disneyfied grandeur

haiku sidebar:

Oh, how the Donald
would knit his red furrowed brow
in consternation

Refugee picnic
lobby is spoiled, but fear not,
cash trumps any mess


The Gamblers’ Den: the mise-en-scène of gentlemen on holiday from Asian quarters.
Parlaying their high hopes, they drag their families along from third world to first, only to leave their loved ones to linger outside the premises while the menfolk play grab-ass with Lady Luck on the gaming floor.

Hajj to the Taj