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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 
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
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
You’ll have helped me to work up
Quite a thirst…


Glug, glug, glug.


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