Oh, if I could see once more
a gumball machine in a grocery store.
Alas, these days, I never do see any,
although, they only cost a penny -
and, then I'd like to take a ride
on a little coin operated car outside.
The vending machine, though filled to the brim
now stands with a sign, my joy growing dim
out of order it reads, my heart does break
my cravings increase, my tummy it aches
The machine that once brought me such delight
Now brings forth frustration and wicked spite
The products it holds are now out of reach
Leaving me feeling sad, empty, and weak
The coins I spent before seeing the sign
Money I wasted, my wallet does pine
Cruel vending machine, I think I may cry
From the hunger and thirst, surely I’ll die
But still, I have hope in my shattered heart
In the future when this machine will start
Dispensing the treats that I love to eat
Look— a working machine I’ve yet to meet!
*I wrote this poem on January 26, 2024, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ January challenge. This was day 26 and the prompt was: Write about your feelings when there is an out-of-order sign on a vending machine.
Hymn to an Art-o-matic Laundromat
by Michael R. Burch
after Richard Thomas Moore’s “Hymn to an Automatic Washer”
O, terrible-immaculate
ALL-cleansing godly Laundromat,
where cleanliness is next to Art
—a bright Kinkade (bought at K-Mart),
a Persian rug (made in Taiwan),
a Royal Bonn Clock (time zone Guam)—
embrace my ass in cushioned vinyl,
erase all marks: ****, v-g-nal,
penile, inkspot, red wine, dirt.
O, sterilize her skirt, my shirt,
my skidmarked briefs, her padded bra;
suds-away in your white maw
all filth, the day’s accumulation.
Make us pure by INUNDATION.
Published by The Oldie, where it was the winner of a poetry contest. Keywords/Tags: hymn, art, America, laundry, laundromat, washer, dryer, appliances, clean, cleaning, cleanliness, clothes, clothing, underwear, god, godly, godliness, water, baptism, inundation, sonnet, analogy
This poem was inspired by the incongruence of discovering "works of art" while doing laundry at a laundromat with coin-operated washers and dryers. I was reminded of the experience while reading Richard Moore’s “Hymn to an Automatic Washer.”
The coin operated word association machines tumbling out fresh expressions from old clichés one’s own peculiar way to say enhancing your everyday routine though the true meaning may be complicated
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