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written by: John Grey


Can’t be invisible.
People stare.
Too many oversized body parts.
Too much flesh.
The belly protrudes.
The chin enjoys the company
of other chins.
As for the thighs,
they scrape both sides
of narrow alleys.
And if your behind
was two melons
they’d receive prizes
at the fair.
You’ve tried every diet.
Even exercise until
it threatened your heart.
Sure, your friends say
they like you the way
you are.
But they could never
like themselves
if they were you.
You chose clothes
not to look presentable
but to disappear
inside them.
But, no matter how formless
the material around you,
your shape won’t
come to the aid of the pretense.
In the mall,
some stranger’s kid says,
“Gee, you’re fat.”
His mother pulls him away
but he’s not going anywhere.

John Grey

John Grey

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in That, Dunes Review, Poetry East and North Dakota Quarterly with work upcoming in Qwerty, Thin Air, Dalhousie Review and failbetter.
John Grey

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