Henrietta signs the checks
And dots the ‘i’s
And crosses the ‘t’s
And notices the money
That should be there
But isn’t
She signs the checks
She gets her coffee
She checks in with Marge
Downstairs
On Floor 3
Money isn’t there
But money sometimes isn’t
And you can’t expect
It all to be
On the up and up
Every time
A document comes
Across your desk
But the checks
She signs the checks
The numbers used to add up
And now they scratch the surface
She runs her tongue
Across her teeth
Reminds herself
That her granddaughter has
A birthday coming up
And the line items
Fall off the line
The cash seems strapped
The budget won’t budget
And the memo simply states--
Please sign
She unpacks her lunch
And warms up
Her couscous
Henrietta stirs her salad
Forgetting the dressing
Forgetting to eat
She takes it back
To her desk
Where sits the check
And the pen
That should have already
Signed the check
She calls maintenance again
And asks for assistance
With the lower-right desk drawer
That hasn’t opened
Since before she was hired
Twenty-nine years ago
A bird flies past the window
On the seventeenth floor
And down the hall
Her boss closes his door
And she thinks she hears crying
But who can say for sure?
An American flag hangs
From a corner of the office
And she’s always wondered
If she should salute it
When she walks by
Her husband was a marine
But now he fixes clogged up sinks
And tells her that she has great legs
And she tells him to come off it
But really, she’s thrilled
Henrietta has it all
And that’ll remain the same
Provided she keeps
Signing
The checks
She leaves the checks
In her bottom left drawer
And sends her boss a note
That she’s going home early
Due to a headache
He replies back fast
Asking
If she’s signed the checks
But she doesn’t respond
She gets to her car
And sits for a minute
Wondering where she should go
Now that she has half a day
She hadn’t planned on having
Up until now
Henrietta drives to the mall
And sits in the food court
Happy to be around people
Who are only concerned
With their tray
Of seven dollar noodles and rice
She thinks about calling her husband
But buys herself a new bag instead
There’s no going back to work
And she’s not sure
If she feels like going home
So she takes out a book
That she carries with her
For when there’s nothing to do
And begins to read
With the confidence of someone
Who knows they’re starting something
They have no intention
Of finishing
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