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Blogpoem for Joe

Elisa Gabbert

He's your first friend named Joe: funny, isn't it?
With a name like Joe, it seems as though
you should have met him before. He reminds you
of someone, he will always remind you
of the first Joe, because he is. It makes you feel
warm, but then you start to wonder if it's him
you like or just the nameā€”but you can't
go smoke on the deck with the name Joe,
can't take it to a show. You can't get a call
from the name Joe, though until you pick it up
it kind of looks that way. You can, I guess,
write a poem about the name, but the name
can't read it. Or won't. No, you decide,
it's Joe: this Joe and not the idea-of-Joe,
the meaning-of-Joe, not the concept
but the instance, the example of Joe (e.g.,
Joe). It's like you just took a bite of
the most perfect peach in all of Venice,
and now you never want a peach again. You
want this one to be the last you'll ever know.

Elisa Gabbert

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