the vending machine

no more, no more dreams
the vending machine of the dreams is broken
I gave out all my coins to the homeless man

I’m lying on my bed
looking at the spinning fan on my ceilings
picturing your face
made of neon tubes of yellow and red
your eyes are flickering
you red lips are moving in the cartoon’ish slow motion
that neon sound…

what are you doing in this old diner? I asked
I serve coffee, people drink coffee
and never fall asleep any more
they stay here forever

the vending machine of the dreams is broken
Hypnos quit over disagreement with the union

she served me a cup
Aergia was her name

2 thoughts on “the vending machine

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