Jesse Little’s poem is about an irritating work colleague  is based on a real-life Rupert, and he owns a lot of his pens! Illustration by Nell McKeon.

I’m gradually stealing
all the pens from Rupert’s desk.
It’s my largely unacknowledged
form of silent protest.

So as my cheeks redden
to loud jokes at my expense,
my mind can drift away
to this quiet recompense.

The giggles of our colleagues
cost him books of Post-it Notes.
And each whisper in the kitchen
means missing envelopes.

So he can act the big man
while his sycophants look on.
Then rifle through his drawers
thinking “where’s my Tipp-Ex gone?”

See, I may not have his quick-fire wit;
his knack for ridicule.
But what I do have is his stapler,
And I’ll take his hole punch too.

And even though each item
takes just moments to replace,
I love to watch the beaten look
on his stupid fucking face.

This poem appeared in The Protest Issue of Popshot Quarterly. On sale now.

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