to safety in a thinner body. Asphyxiate during a fire? Your lungs
would be stronger sans crushing weight. If you were a good fatty,
he wouldn’t ghost you after sex—your panties a conquest flag
he jokes is a parachute. You’re a hogtied hottie he still longs to see
when all the lights are off. A waitress scoffs as you order diet soda—
an audience to the unbelievable twist. You die inside as you brush
a too-close table and someone glares. You talk about losing weight
and exercise so your doctor sees you as human… never as good as him.
****
End notes:
I don't normally address fatphobia in my writing, but I am doing so more as of late. No idea why.
The next blog post should be about NFTs. I'm currently gathering information so I sound 10% less ignorant on the topic. It was supposed to be today's post, but I'm a bit overwhelmed right now.
If you haven't read my published poems from the last couple of months, I'm going to leave links right here.
It's interesting how new themes just spring themselves on you sometimes. Like part of your brain has been fuming over that for a while, but didn't tell the rest of you :-)
ReplyDeleteVery much enjoyed how "Rite of Passage" has two possible directions for reading and the haiku made me smile.
Thank you for reading all of it! "Rite of Passage" is a column poem. I was thinking of doing a post on how to actually write one, but I don't know if I got it down perfectly myself!
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