Bucky the Rogue Dust Devil

[mnaz]

Once there was a rogue dust devil
twisting on the dry flats of Nevada.
I'll call him Bucky because
why the hell not?

One day he spun into Las Vegas
just to see what the fuss was about.
He'd heard that Vegas had posh resorts
with soft breezes, poolside in paradise,
like that soft east coast Miami-type crap.
Well, he'd put a stop to all that nonsense.
He'd ambush those tenderfoot tourists
and fill their fruity drinks with sand.

He wobbled and wiggled with all his might
across the scrub and palms and pawn shops
toward the big black pyramid, the one that
serves fruity drinks and pretends to be Egypt.
He'd show them what the desert was all about.
He spun across the I-15, almost sputtered out,
but his vortex came together beside the pool,
and lounge chairs flew in circles.

But alas, no dirty sand.
Crossing the I-15 took all of his sand.
But the flying pool accoutrements were worth it,
and Bucky died a happy devil beside the MGM.

[mnaz]

Link:
https://www.msn.com/en-us/weather/topst ... 42f1dcaed2

[mtmynd]

Well done, amigo...

[mnaz]

Ha! Thanks. Sometimes Vegas wants to forget that it's in the middle of the dusty desert West. (That's its job.)