Poor Hobo Moe

Poor Hobo Moe
wasn’t actually poor.
He had six million dollars,
in fact, maybe more.

You couldn’t see his wealth
by his tattered old coat,
and the scrappy hairs of his beard
looked like a billy goat.

He lived in a bowling alley
at lane twenty-one,
where he slept in the gutter
when the bowlers were done.

He had been a league champion
in the days of his youth
until he lost to East Kentfield’s
“Silver Strike” Ruth.

Since then he had never
even knocked down one pin.
His ego was shattered
and his hope had grown thin.

He left his hometown
and gave up the game,
then wandered the streets
in a bubble of shame.

He then walked for miles
and slept in still trains,
until finally settling
at Colchester Lanes.

The lure of the alley
was too strong to fight.
So he decided he’d not play
but just sleep there at night.

The spilled beer on the carpets,
and the smoky ashtrays.
The greasy fried foods
and the bowling shoe sprays.

All the smells brought him back
to a much happier place,
but still the thought of actually bowling
was one he just couldn’t face.

Until two years later
when the ground began to shake,
and several of the bowlers
shouted, “EARTHQUAKE!”

The pins tumbled over
and chunks of ceiling came down.
Balls fell from their shelves
and then scattered around.

Once the Earth stopped its shaking
Moe looked all around.
He saw bowlers were injured
and there was a great crack in the ground.

But the worse of it all
was at lane twenty-four
where Old Chuck was stuck between
the pin setter and floor.

There was a field of debris
between Moe and Old Chuck,
and not one path to him wide enough
he was just too darn stuck.

“Someone must release him!”
shouted Chuck’s wife.
She looked at Moe and begged,
“Please save his life!”

Moe looked at the debris
and saw a thin path.
He figured out the angles
and did some quick math.

IF he could throw it
at just the right speed,
With just enough spin
Chuck would surely be freed.

The ball should just miss
Chuck’s big ole gray head
and crack the pin resetter,
freeing him instead.

Moe threw out his doubt
and picked up a ball
then took two good deep breaths
and prayed to Saint Paul*.

As he swung his arm back
Moe’s heart began to pound,
and when his fingers released the ball
it was all quite profound.

Everyone was hushed
as the ball made its way
and when its hit released Chuck
they all yelled “Hooray!”

Moe became a hero
to everyone in town.
And when the alley was fixed,
he won the Colchester Lanes Crown.