Bodies Like Oceans
for Shoog McDaniel
Spare me your thin tidings
bring round your unsolicited fats
Your baby fat, your tired fat
fat of the evening tide
Fat of the early worm
bring me that stubborn belly
Fat of the unspoken
under-served and unrequited
Pocked, puckered and long-pummeled
fat-on-fat-on-fat fat
Flesh, that responds to touch,
jiggles at the suggestion
A provocation of fat, tested
to withstand the fallow ire. Please,
Don’t mention the memory
of muscle without the tensile tenure—
Long live the cross-legged splendour
of fat privilege. Oh, slender stride,
Whom do you comfort, with your ease
whose borders drape across your back?
Clawed my way out
of your clean love
And into the world’s fat shine
world that works to burn
Me, I stay alive and well
rounded at every corner
Keep your thin spectacle,
your airy hula hoop
Fat of the forgotten republic
I lift you out of the shade
Let your contours spill over with light
I offer not the lemon,
But the sour grove as heaven.
