Joe from Idaho

 

His name is Joe.  

He moved here from Idaho

dreaming of being a poet 

though he did not know it

to work a newspaper stand 

for a portly man named Fran.

He scribbles rhymes on a receipt,

his life on perpetual repeat.

“That will be three seventy five.”

I’m not sure what keeps him alive.

But keep your chin up, Joe.

Meaning comes, only real slow.

***