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
fucked
but not
fucked.
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.