Ode to my breakfast (Neruda style)

Vending machine
newly stocked
you stand ready.
Waltzing in
30 minutes late
you catch
my eye.
My growling stomach
seeks your goodness.

Never caring
for nickels and dimes,
I seek them out
Since every
cent
counts.
Victorious
amidst the paper clips
in corners of
messy
desk drawers, it is found
Satisfaction
in a dollar fifteen.
Hungrily
I drop
coins
and expectantly press
code thirty-three.

Gears turn
red bag filled
with salty goodness
drops.
Reaching through
the floppy door
i grasp
the pleasure of
another day.
Salty little
squares
orange
like a goldfish
but superior
in taste
in form
in ability
to satisfy.

And how
could i slave
away
to lunch
if not for
cheez-its
and
a diet coke.