Pink Slip

The last time I saw him
He was wearing one of his clown ties
And dozing at his computer,
Suffering from offensive comments
That suggested he was either
Too fat or
Too different or
Questions about whether he'd ever had a girlfriend, and
Forced to listen to Robert Preston singing Chicken Fat. 
He suffered these barbs with courage, a smile,
And then would go home to his puppets and his secret room
Overflowing with toys that had never been opened.
When his usefulness was over we issued him a pink slip,
Which he accepted with worry, anger,
But on Monday he didn't come to work.
Instead, he escaped to his shower and
Absorbed a bullet.
He was a nice man, decent and harmless,
But those traits are only apparent now in retrospect and guilt.

© Poem Fix 2012
Photo by Jesse Krauß

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