Work Title

Ode To A Jukebox


Oh fat gleaming monster reposing in the corner
With your soul glowing like satan's fires,
Whence have you come to destroy life's peaceful existence;
To tempt youth and put new lines in the seers' brows?

Like the roaring blasting furnace, you require nourishment,
Taking pity on your pangs of hunger, I'll feed you a nickle,
Ungrateful one! There you sit with your polished sides gleaming,
Smug and satisfied like a fat Buddha.

Slowly you devour my offering,
And as it reaches your digestive system,
You gr--rr-owl and gr--rr-Ind;
Instead of a soft crooning thanks, you stab at me with a cresendo of noise.
Wailing and screeching, you pour out your thoughts in anguish,
And I sit amazed at your suffering.



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