The Neon Boneyard

Washed out greens and blues; dirty pinks and whites; Signs with broken bulbs; scorched regal purples And scandalous scarlet lights stripped of notoriety; Garish signifiers of bold billion dollar dreams, Now reduced to faint whispers Like the fleeting fires of sun drenched fame. Think of bloated Elvis in drug addled haze. No vibrant splashes; just weak hues and shades. Rusted gold lettering that once proudly Adorned a world of decadence: Now forlorn; inverted - rendered obsolete; Rotting and peeling in the severe desert heat. All that appears to remain amidst Mammon's conspicuous ruins Are sprinkled fragments of stardust Frozen glyphs in the ashes of time.