vending machine life

i press A5
here is my candy heart
i glance past glass at what
i think i want.
sixty five cents for a couple ounces of skittles.

i laugh.
my head is leaning on the glass
i don't want anything.
even if i did, i don't have seventy five cents
(one dime back)

i wince and see
you are looking at my vending machine life
could you not criticize
my cheated dollar
the way that, every once in a while no candy comes out
even as you give me every quarter you have?
whisper words to glass.
maybe it will permeate my
empty interior
and i will light up for you.