As eyelids grow heavy
So does the quarter 
Tucked in my brain
Just behind my ear 
Waiting for its turn

Darkness prevails
And the quarter rolls
Pushing its way
Into the slot 
Excited for what comes next

The machine dial turns
As filled balls
Tumble about
Until one falls
Out of the opening

My brain eagerly
Breaks open the ball
To discover what sort
Of bliss or horror or oddity
Appears tonight