the fat poem

by michele merges martens


yes
i have to look in the mirror
every day.
i am fat.
my mother says
lose weight.
my boss shows off her tiny waist
and looooong legs.
you know, good catalogs like landsend and llbean
don't carry clothes in my size
and fat lady clothes = harsh polyester tents, weird colors and fake jeans, full
support.  i'm not falling down!
and did you ever notice that the paper-doll models for the plus size clothing 
are always minus sized?
my husband watches
all the thin girls on tv.  he says he loves
me.

but
i look in the mirror
every day.
i have circular lines
that are soft and rounded,
pleasant to follow with your eyes or with your hand.
i'd like to be a pillow for when you dream at night,
or an ocean wave forever curling towards the sand.
jagged edges of lightening
hurt.
you don't want to lie on a bed of sticks.
you don't want put raw spaghetti in your mouth.
think about how the good chocolates are always curved.
the moon
always has one curved edge.
round buttons fit into all kinds of straight buttonholes.

although i know you wouldn't believe it if i told you,
i've had passionate lovers.
(and will again...)
c. 1995 michele merges martens


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