vending machine

the first one came & i couldn't remember
if i had ordered it. there are always
those late-night desires.
a credit card in the dark. the delivery man
with all his unpriestly judgements.
i was pretty sure i would have remembered
requesting a vending machine. fully stocked.
it was the same as the one that used to be
out back behind the middle school
where i used quarters to buy sprites.
a cold can that i sipped on the walk home
across the field. of course, i fed it.
what you feed, you become. the machine
stood in the middle of the living room.
my partner & i tried to move it
but in retaliation, it always got bigger until
its head was touching the ceiling. 
we accepted it. started requesting cash back
at the grocery store so that we could buy
our little sodas & watch the television
to distract ourselves. the second machine
i was sure i did not ask for. it arrived
in the already small bathroom. a tampon machine
even though neither of use tampons.
the machine preached about all the uses
for tampons. earrings & garland & laughter.
so, i bought some. i had hoped somehow
that a purchase could make it stop.
the hunger that it planted in me 
was like a centipede. so many legs. 
over the next year, every room gained
a vending machine. one for forks & one
for televisions & one for 
holidays & one for lube 
& one for prepackaged apples. 
everything that emerged was always
slightly off. colors that did not sing. 
it became harder & harder to move 
around the house. my partner wept. he said,
"i won't be mad if you just tell me
what is going on." i did not know. i was 
terrified of my hands & of the machines.
appeasing a horror only gets you so far.
the most confusing part was how
they were always restocked despite
no delivery people coming to fill them.
i started to wonder if what came
from their little mouth-portals were real.
i came to the first one. the giant soda machine
in the middle of the living room. i started
to leave it offerings. i hoped to appease it.
sometimes then it would give me
two cans for one quarter. a steal.
drinking them in the summer dusk,
my partner & i dream of what other machines
might come. what they might bring.
how we might survive them.