Flat and dusty, piercing the desert
With a silhouette against the falling sun.
Thriving and thrashing, vegetation grew
Despite the deficit of moisture.
The Holiday Inn where pillows are all so
Fluffy. With mints of grandeur
Laying atop the place of sleep.
Melts smoothly in your mouth.
Weasels sold in dozens, at traps
To the unsuspecting family tourists.
Tributes to their alien encounters,
Blinding, believing to the naïve.
Radiation where the sun lingers on earth
Where the atom was exploited.
Endless air like warm root-beer fills you
After a fresh shave, ready to depart.