Wednesday, February 25, 2004

Wednesday Poem: Gumball

As a small child
I stood in front of those large
Gumball machines, shiny red in color,
Linked up with three others in
Two rows, where one or two
Sold candy and the rest
Tempted your change with
Prizes and plastic crap, but
Eight-year olds still
Salivated like geriatric degenerate
Gamblers slumped over a
Slot machine in Reno.

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