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|
---
title: Ex machina
id: ex-machina
genre: verse
epigraph:
content: with lines from National Geographic
link: 'http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2013/08/sugar/cohen-text'
project:
title: Autocento of the breakfast table
class: autocento
...
| Bottom of the drink: they had
| to go. The Coke machine, the snack
| machine, the deep fryer. Hoisted
| and dragged through the halls
| and out to the curb, they sat with
| other trash beneath gray, forlorn
| skies behind the elementary
| school, wondering what their next
| move would be. The Coke machine
| had always wanted to live
| the life of a [hobo][], jumping trains,
| eating from garbage, making fire
| in old oil drums. It had some
| strange romantic notions of being homeless,
| is what the deep fryer thought.
| Its opinion was to head to court,
| sue the bastards at the school for early
| termination of contract. It was
| the embodiment of [justifiable anger][].
| It believed privately that it was an incarnation
| of Nemesis, the goddess of divine
| retribution. What the snack machine
| thought, it kept to itself, but it did say
| that [nothing ever ends][]. The others
| were confused, then angry, but finally
| understood, or thought they did. The snack
| machine's candy melted in the sun.
[hobo]: prelude.html
[justifiable anger]: table_contents.html
[nothing ever ends]: no-nothing.html
|
