deepundergroundpoetry.com

My opinion of ATM machines...[Three Word Insp.]

...they steal my brain.

You looked at me with those soggy, brown eyes
as I became an ATMs clientele. Primarily a brain for the machine to steal...and make stupid.
"You're going to forget me," you whisper and nod with the ruffles in your lines.
"You're going to leave me at the cash machine like the sponsored swimmer who lost the race. I have no holes in me. I am not flawed.
Am I not good enough to be your vintage shelter?
You're going to forget me, aren't you?
Oh yes, you are...See, walking away...what did I tell you?"
I'm only commenting on these things
because I am so much more than royally pissed off.
I left my vintage umbrella proped against a wall while I took yet more money out.
Overdrawn and
cold
and wet.

Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
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