To the Artist's Page To our home page
To Brent M. Parker's previous piece To Brent M. Parker's next piece
Soliloquy of a Malfunctioning Coke Machine It has always been my wish to refresh you To collect the correct condensation on each and every vessel of refreshment To tumble my pressurized present Just enough To perpetrate, perpetuate the perfect pppht! sssss! when the pop top is popped, (As promised by the ad born into my face, which we both bought;) To ignore the ever pushing price of my function Hovering yellow and black as police tape in its corner of my fire engine red face; To digest the most rumpled, even crumpled of your bills with ease To read my own light red sold out lights by the sun soaked shadow of your hand So I know whether my gifts are just stuck Or not really there for me to give… Is it my fault that you drove your dollar into my abysmal slot until I gripped it Instead of grasping and grabbing a contour-gripped new, (yet nostalgic of the form of the classic glass) plastic bottle From behind but a freshly oiled sliding glass door Just inside the store? Is it because I’m just a little bit cheaper? Just that much more convenient? Or is there something about My tin tinged taste You actually Enjoy? Is it my fault the store doesn’t own me, Doesn’t have my key? Do you really think your incessant button pushing and holding and battery of tests Of battery Will release your refreshment? My refreshment? And even if one does jostle A piece of my purpose loose Condensation crept, wept away ppht! sssss! incited into PPPPPPHHHHHTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSS! You’ll have helped me to work up Quite a thirst… PPPPPPHHHHHTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSS(~)! Glug, glug, glug. Aaahhhhhhhhhhh!
To the top of this page