the office stapler

I stare at the black stapler
on my desk.

it's the same one I stole from my office
when I worked
in IT
a thousand years ago.

if they were going to lay me of
than by god they
were going to pay dearly for it.

so I took a stapler
and a box of staples.

security walked me out the back entrance,
taking my chained badge
from around my neck.

I carried my box of papers,
pencils and erasers out with me,
the stapler carefully hidden
under a box of snicker bars and

all the great snacks that I kept
in a drawer at my desk.
I laughed knowing that the whole office
would be missing me,

seeing that I was the go to guy
for snacks.

jelly beans, crackers, chocolate bars,
gum, or beef jerky, I was the man.
fireballs and candy cigarettes, you
name, I had it.

I knew I was a bad worker,
always at the coffee pot or the phone,
so I deserved to be let go.
I hated the job. it was coal out
of a mountain. it didn't matter
that I was released from Maggie's farm.

I didn't miss the work, but I missed
my peeps.
my buds, my coffee mates,
my lunch gang, I missed
volley ball and happy hours.
the Christmas party.
the new receptionist that changed
from week to week.

they got rid of me, but I got a stapler
out of it. shiny and black
and a box of staples.

revenge is sweet.