Merchant of old

Dedicated to CAC on our much revered vendor machine

A fat merchant stood seven feet wide,

Hoarding his merchandise with unspoken pride,

Scoring naught on services ‘n taking everyone for rides,

Everyone fears him, so they tend to let things slide.

 

“I want two quarters and a dime.” Says he,

As constant as the Pasha Almighty,

“Do credit cards and checks please your majesty?”

“Nay, and neither do I give change, so away with thee!”

 

So there stood our lonely merchant of old;

That’d snub Euros, Pounds and cards of gold;

Silently demanding two quarter and a dime,

Timelessly ignoring the passing of time.