In a hotel elevator,
I see a small sign that says “Joe machine,”
and I wonder, what’s a Joe machine?
Is it a device invented by a man named Joe?
Does it provide a service for people named Joe?
Or is it a coffee machine
described in slang as dispensing joe?
Then I look more closely
and see that the sign refers
to an ICE machine, which suits me fine.
I’m not looking for a guy named Joe;
I’m not looking for a cup of joe.
And my name’s not Joe.
I’m carrying a bucket for ice.