A modern enigmatic little boy Stopped before a soda-water slot-machine And bought himself a beverage labeled "tangerine," As easily as winding up a toy. He deposited a kopeck in the slot, This tot, unimpressed by the fantastic, And the genie, with machinery gymnastic, Spurted water in the glass like a shot. Oh, to share his cool conviction for an hour! For an hour to be so intimate with magic! But no, I am not unworthy; it is tragic That my fingers cannot grasp the sugared shower? This child, inured to miracles from birth, Picks up the glass with facets seven That shatter the refracted light of heaven Into rainbows projected on earth. Envying his feat, I do the same; With fearful palpitations take the risk Of slipping in the slot-machine my disc: The stake that gives me entrance to the game. Out of the confinement of its cell The emancipated liquid gaily gushes, An ebullience of smiles and rosy blushes, Over-brimming the crystalline well. I taste the glowing nectar, and my lips Are stung by evanescent effervescence And the seven rainbow flavors, its quintessence, Imbibed in reverential sips. The slot-machine emits a copper clink As it watches me with aspect unimpassioned, Like a peasant girl with courtesy old-fashioned, Offering a traveler a drink. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REGARDING CHAINSAWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE IMPOSSIBLE INDISPENSIBILITY OF THE ARS POETICA by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON THE ROAD TO CHORRERA by ARLO BATES PHANTOM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ON A BEAUTIFUL DAY by JOHN STERLING (1806-1844) THE GREEN ROADS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS RESERVES by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE STRING AROUND MY FINGER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |