A Biologist in Bliss

Dec 13

I met a plant biologist in Bliss,
Idaho at the Cloud Nine Café. He cruised
the West in a rusty Chevy pickup.

He subsisted in Bliss longer than wished.
Truck’s transmission, trashed,
biologist, short on cash.

Strange name for a town, he sniffed.
Maybe then, it was blissful, I said.
I doubt it, he dissed.

We kissed a bit; danced around
a romance. I was passing through.

Spent a couple days up to my chin
in steaming water, then blitzed
out of Bliss.

I want to believe biologist
broke free, found
Rapture in Indiana.

(Published in Red Flag Poetry, 5/11/2023)

Christy Wise

Gold, Dust