Relics

On the glamorless outskirts
Of Vegas I catch sunset's
flash off derelict cars
between two shanties.

Weeds overtake the grills,
fill in the shattered headlamps
of relics rifled and stripped
like steel cadavers.

Two days later I pass
again, east-bound.
The ancient heaps are
opened, their gutted

insides cluttered
with rows of ragged children
jostling for a turn
behind the wheels.