Flesh and the Desert is a kaleidoscopic portrait of Las Vegas. We follow the intertwined stories of three couples: one ghostly, one long-lasting, and one just starting tonight. Along the way we meet Elvis and Liberace, slot machines and Siberian white tigers, and of course, those glittering creatures, the Showgirls. The Eye in the Sky watches, the mirrorball spins. As long as you’re gambling, the drinks are free. Welcome, Conventioneers.

An investigation of women who kill their children: Susan Smith, Andrea Yates, and Juana Leija.

"Do I dare disturb the universe?" J. Robert Oppenheimer's rise and fall erupt in this kaleidoscopic play exploring questions of faith, conscience, and the consequences of the never-ending pursuit of knowledge. Act One: Math. The fevered wartime drive to build the first nuclear weapon, by a collection of previously academic theoretical physicists, many of them Jews fleeing Hitler's Germany. Success turns to horror when "the Gadget" is dropped, first on Hiroshima, then Nagasaki. Act Two: Aftermath. Oppenheimer confronts his conscience; Russia turns from ally to enemy. The Red scare is in full swing as we shift to the courtroom. Oppenheimer's wife, Kitty, drinks; J. Edger Hoover does the dance of the seven veils; and the Father of the Atomic Bomb has his security clearance revoked, cast out of the world he helped create. In a flash that is the end of his life, J. Robert Oppenheimer paces the desert of the Trinity Test Site, wrestling with his memories and one scary, sexy, unpredictable demon: Lilith, Hebrew mythology's first woman, cast out of Eden for refusing to behave. Hissing in his ear, she goads him to admit what he refuses to acknowledge: an anger that mirrors her own. "Oppie" is haunted by actions, decisions, and a trinity of women—mother, wife Kitty, and lover, Jean Tatlock. Her suicide is never far from his mind; her Communist ties are never far from the government's.