#hoagland

[apoemaday]

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.

[luthienne]

Tony Hoagland, from Application for Release from the Dream; “The Complex Sentence”

[havingapoemwithyou]

bible study by Tony Hoagland

[lunchboxpoems]

TONY HOAGLAND

[extollingtheeveryday]

Tony Hoagland // "Reasons to Survive November" (2003)

[mikarchive2]

tony hoagland, faulkner

[madd-madd]

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Personal - by Tony Hoagland:

"Don’t take it personal," they said; but I did, I took it all quite personal—

the breeze and the river and the color of the fields; the price of grapefruit and stamps,

the wet hair of women in the rain— And I cursed what hurt me

and I praised what gave me joy, the most simple-minded of possible responses.

The government reminded me of my father, with its deafness and its laws,

and the weather reminded me of my mom, with her tropical squalls.

"Enjoy it while you can," they said of Happiness "Think first," they said of Talk

"Get over it," they said at the School of Broken Hearts

but I couldn’t and I didn’t and I don’t believe in the clean break;

I believe in the compound fracture served with a sauce of dirty regret,

I believe in saying it all and taking it all back

and saying it again for good measure while the air fills up with "I’m-Sorries"

like wheeling birds and the trees look seasick in the wind.

Oh life! Can you blame me for making a scene?

You were that yellow caboose, the moon disappearing over a ridge of cloud.

I was the dog, chained in some fool’s backyard; barking and barking:

trying to convince everything else to take it personal too.

—Tony Hoagland

+

[Thanks Rob Breszny]

Rob Brezsny

[littlewhispersmokesigns]

[luthienne]

Tony Hoagland, Application for Release from the Dream: Poems

[songpasserine]

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[othellho]

Tony Hoagland, “Bible Study”.

[shivvy-roy]

succession 4x03/cause of death: fox news by tony hoagland

[fishingforwords]

the higher you go the freer you are.

mary barnyard, height is the distance down || t.s. eliot, the waste land || parkour || roman payne, rooftop soliloquy || charles bukowski || pascale petit, sky ladder || tony hoagland, from this height || mary oliver, every day has something in whose name is forever

[fluttering-slips]

The Loneliest Job in the World

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.

Tony Hoagland