I just saw an article titled "Why Being Fat is Great."
I won't read it.
Spare tire. Expanding tube. Stretched belt.
Reese's Cup. Flavored chips. Breaded chicken, with sauce.
I don't hate myself. If I did, I wouldn't regret that second Reese's Cup.
If I did, I wouldn't long to run, or at least job.
If I did, I wouldn't sit down to write.
If I did, I wouldn't imagine something different.
I don't hate myself.
My belly is my body. So are my arthritic knees.
So are my literate eyes.
So are my ears, trained to listen like a therapist,
or like a pastor;
like a friend.
I won't check on the article, "Why Being Fat is Great."
I don't hate myself.
And, I'd rather stop thinking about my belly and read something else.
