My boss likes to hug me, which is awkward
because I don’t want to hug him.
He hides behind his agitator grin
and his salary smile.
I would like to take his nothing bonus
and spit it into his eyes.
Watch his frown fade into disgust
and laugh at his now squeezing release.
When we meet I can smell his dis-honesty,
rich as piss. It reeks of receipts.
His false words take time to settle
and I can’t hold it all in. But I have to.
My chair wobbles and the shape of him bends
like the magic trick when you shake a pen.
I squint my eyes
and it looks like he is smiling.
I open them wide and he is too bright.
I close them and he disappears.
I take my mug and throw it from the window.
I take him and throw him from the window.
I take his fucking receipts and throw them from the window.
I close the window and throw myself through it.
Stephen Daniels is the editor of Amaryllis Poetry. His poetry has been published in numerous magazines and websites. His debut pamphlet ‘Tell Mistakes I Love Them’ was published in 2017 by V. Press. Find out more at www.stephenkirkdaniels.com