all of our lives feel like parentheses floating in outer space,
barely sand grains
if you’re reading this,
you still don’t know when the other parentheses will appear
book end curtains mystery
i guess that’s the fun of it all because if we did know when there’d be no gamble.
i’ve had some great luck lately…
at st. mary’s hospital, a gum ball machine was dwarfed by a much larger vending machine, but the little one was filled with skittles and asked for only a quarter so i gambled. It was a lock and load situation; drop 25 cent piece into a metal slot and turn a crank three times. there was crunching and grinding and then jam city. the crank wouldn’t turn anymore, but it had rained inside and a metal door below the crank seemed to beg me so i lifted the flap and wedged my fingers as far up the chute as they would go and holy candy land, there were so many there that i needed to use both hands – one to scoop and one to catch, so many i decided to count. there was 25 in all. That’s one cent per skittle. victory.
i went to the grocery store with a bag of empty cans, to bring the cans home, to the recycle can machine. i placed each can on a conveyor belt tongue and watched as it performed a strange stop and go dance while the machine read it’s bar code in order to accept or reject each particular can. all were accepted so each one continued along the belt and disappeared into a slow CRUNCHING sound and then it fell into what i assumed was a mini junk yard of aluminum cans hidden inside the machine. the lit-up dashboard then changed numbers, rising like the dow jones and when the last can crunched, a printout spit out of the machine. i was instructed to see cashier and exchange that print out for some gold coins. i had won again.