by Mario Benedetti
It’s a shame you’re not with me
when I look at the clock and it’s four
and I finish the payroll accounts and think for ten minutes
and stretch my legs like every afternoon
and I do the same with my shoulders to loosen my back
and I fold my fingers and crack my knuckles.
It’s a shame you’re not with me
when I look at the clock and it’s five
and I’m a handle that calculates interests
or two hands that pounce on forty keys
or an ear that listens to how the telephone barks
or someone who makes up numbers and derives truth from them.
It’s a shame you’re not with me
when I look at the clock and it’s six.
You could approach me by surprise
and say “How are you?” and we would end up with
me with the red smudge from your lips
you with the blue soot from my carbon.
-from Only in the Meantime & Office Poems