To find clues where there are none,
That’s my job now, I said to the
Dictionary on my desk. The world beyond
My window has grown illegible,
And so has the clock on the wall.
I may strike a match to orient myself
In the meantime, there’s the heart
Stopping hush as the building
Empties, the elevators stop running,
The grains of dust stay put.
Hours of quiescent sleuthing
Before the Madonna with the mop
Shuffles down the long corridor
Trying doorknobs, turning mine.
That’s just little old me sweating
In the customer’s chair, I’ll say.
Keep your nose out of it.
I’m not closing up till he breaks.
(Charles Simic)
More Poetry from Charles Simic:
Charles Simic Poems based on Topics: World, Running- Talking To Little Birdies (Charles Simic Poems)
- This Morning (Charles Simic Poems)
- The Wooden Toy (Charles Simic Poems)
- The Something (Charles Simic Poems)
- Against Winter (Charles Simic Poems)
- Paradise Motel (Charles Simic Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: World Poems, Running PoemsBased on Keywords: clues, mop, customer, madonna, corridor, empties, quiescent, shuffles, illegible, elevators, doorknobs