Fat Nation

By
Chicken or beef?
It won’t matter anyway; it all goes to the same place.
Your stomach, which in response swells gladly.
Cheese or no cheese?
You’ll go without today, but tonight the fridge door will swing open.
Hello, cheddar, you’ve not been forgotten.
Will that be skim or whole milk?
Neither, but ice cream will be just fine.
You enter the mall tentatively,
To perform the task so hated.
Shopping.
Speeding up past the inviting stylish stores that blare techno and perfection,
Your thighs rub together and your stomach growls at the promise of pizza.
You head for the XXL Barn and hurriedly grab sweaters that you hope will
Smooth the bumps and ripples of your fat.
Better a shapeless hunk than one bubbling with thick rolls of flesh.
At home you gaze in distaste at the body stuffed into
Elasticized jeans,
A glob of pudding dumped into denim.
Disgusting! shout your posters of
Models chiseled to perfection.
You flop onto your bed,
The springs creaking in protest, but
It is here within the cool darkness of your shut eyelids,
That you are happiest.
Floating in dreams where your frame is
Boundless.
You scale buildings and
Rip down billboards.
Knock down giant televisions and
Take a hammer to “Size 2 and Down” stores.
Scatter the pieces before America,
And strip down to nothing but your
Un-stylish, un-decorated undergarments,
To raise a defiant finger to an age fixated on bones.





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