The Loneliest Job in the World
by Tony Hoagland
As soon as you begin to ask the question, Who loves me?,
you are completely screwed, because
the next question is How Much?,
and then it is hundreds of hours later,
and you are still hunched over
your flowcharts and abacus,
trying to decide if you have gotten enough.
This is the loneliest job in the world:
to be an accountant of the heart.
It is late at night. You are by yourself,
and all around you, you can hear
the sounds of people moving
in and out of love,
pushing the turnstiles, putting
their coins in the slots,
paying the price which is asked,
which constantly changes.
No one knows why.
"The Loneliest Job in the World" by Tony Hoagland, from Unincorporated Persons in the Late Honda Dynasty. © Graywolf Press, 2010.
This poem is the first one I have read (knowingly) from Hoagland's upcoming book. I was not blown away, but I like it. I like the use of the second person. More than anything, this poem gets me excited for the new book. We all need stuff to get excited about.