Lessons in Humiliation

I saw my former supervisor in the cereal aisle

and suddenly understood what I didn't that day

when he fired me. The way he could smile

while handing me the news. The way he could say

the words and then continue his evening,

buy cereal, go home, sleep fine.

He had the power and he was leaving

me to figure out what it meant, what line

he'd crossed, and I realized then—

the lesson wasn't about being fired.

It was about the kind of man

who fires people and is never tired

of his own cruelty. It was learning

that humiliation lives longer in the humiliated.

That some people are always turning

the knife, and some of us stay fascinated,

replaying the moment, the tone of his voice,

the fluorescent lights, the way he sat

so comfortable in his choice,

like I was nothing, like that was that.