Boss Thighs / Weighted Wait

Paul Tanner

boss thighs


she likes what she sees


licks her lips

breathes in


looks up from the disciplinary form


I’m afraid

she gasps


uncrosses her legs


looks you in the eye


we’re going to have to let you go


sits back

and exhales,

the once taut meat above her knees

melting across the chair cushion


you leave her there

behind her desk

staring at the ceiling


walk out

blue unemployed balls swaying



but not


weighed wait


she went to the bathroom.

we didn’t say anything.  

when she came back

she looked at us both

and said:

you two are quiet.

it was somehow worse

than if we’d have spoken.

Paul Tanner earns minimum wage and writes. And sometimes, he just plain is. he recently gave up cheese and hope, in that order.


Jennifer Geisinger

Tramp Harbor


Kerry Trautman