Sold Out II
And here we have the slot machine
dug out like a prize from a cornflakes box
with a genuine imitation
gold-plated arm, a wind-up mouth that speaks!
And how! Prise it apart to see
the monkey mechanic wrench and key, the
lightweight board and blunt green screen
where quizzes are conceived
for the time-passing pathos of the content-
guzzling crowd. A world of fun awaits!
: a slogan to plaster over Vonnegut’s face
branded in the blackest shade
on the base near the waste disposal
for the pork, pot and pussy it devours
to oil all devices, run smoothly on
careless to the jarring shifts
of excesses like emotion.
Its original stock is now long gone.
Go beyond that textured brass, the
cultivated surface parts
and stick your hand into the slot
man-moulded to the product
not the soul:
catch the pellets that compress
the additives consumed
and dispensed in times of hazy
blinkeredness where nothing pricks
quite like the process.
Break into parts till emptiness
is all that’s left
to reinsert.
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