Spring 2012, Volume 12

Poetry by Charlotte San Juan

Get Vegas. Get Drunk.

It’s somewhere between
The ironing board
Lined with shot glasses,
Feminine hair products,
A turned over stick of
Deodorant and
The fact that the room
Is trashed with spaghetti,
Rumpled sheets
And shower steam,
That I realize, hey
This is Vegas.
This is what happens.
Nobody is thinking about
Car payments,
Or what their mother is doing
Or if their cat ate a good dinner.
All we care about
Is the sound of money,
Our reflection on hotel glass
As we stalk through the night
In our alter ego stilettos
Welcoming the familiar
Sound of voices in our heads
Telling us, oh it’s okay
Why not? Have just





BIO: I am currently a wandering transfer student, yet to have settled on a school to call home. Poems of mine have been accepted for publication by Carnival Magazine, The Beatnik, and I have been published in The Left Coast Review, featuring writings of the winners of Mt. San Antonio College's annual Writer's Day Contest, of which I was fortunate to have snagged a few first places. When not writing, I enjoy making angry music with my guitar and bass, gossiping with my cats, and paint–splattering canvas.