Did Michael Just Call My Name?

here we go again
eleven of us stuck in
tiny black boxes
built by servers and routers,
from electrons, silicon and glass
the usual yawnfest
every damned morning at nine
and I’m stuck in Box Three

Jim just sits there smiling
Dwight keeps interrupting
while childish Michael
our hapless boss
has gathered us here
to thrill us by unpacking
the quarterly budget
unshaven, he looks like
something the cat dragged in

but you are here, my vixen flame,
just below me in Box Seven
and though we’ve never closed
the many miles between us
how wonderful, these meetings!
our silent exchanges of desire

you seemed a little down yesterday
way beyond Andromeda,
your Zoom background your playground
out among the stars,
were you longing for me there
were you wishing I’d bring you home?

you look a little brighter today
on that white sand beach,
soothed by tropical breezes, are you
dreaming of refreshing aloe
beneath my skillful hands?

I had a good time yesterday
just chillin’ on Mars
up here in Box Three
among those deep orange craters
I’m having fun today
in my alpine meadow
savoring these flowers and birds

but all that matters right now
are the flickers of lust
I can see in your eyes
may the strength of my gaze
fan your ardor

just listen to Michael drone
on and on and on
about our retail partners
Pam can’t get a word in edgewise
Andy’s head is sagging
Creed has started snoring
Robert’s eyes are glazed

ahh… may my naughty looks
undress your soul, because
that’s what you’re doing to me
when I look at my screen
and you’re looking right at me
I know what you’re thinking

do you like it when
I touch my hand to my cheek
do you imagine
it’s placed upon yours?

I see you’ve painted your lips in
a come-hither coral
and dammit, you know that
I wish I could bite them
you’re a tease

poor Michael, what an oaf!
who gives a hoot about
margins and sales?
but he’d fire our bad asses
I’m sure, if he knew how we’re
fogging the windows
in Boxes Seven and Three

so when it’s finally safe to be
less than six feet apart
let’s crawl out of our boxes
finally meet in person
try to go slowly
start with a coffee
just you and me
freed at last
from Boxes Seven and Three

did Michael just call my name?

– Paul Raworth Bennett

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