where do little
fat girls go
when insulted
beneath clotheslines
behind a house
to practice
to practice a speech
for
getting back at
nasty thin girls
whose mothers take time daily
to braid their hair
so tightly
that their eyes are out of orbit
and whose grandmothers care enough
to sew them dresses
with those nasty pink downy feathers
and with velvety fabric
that would accentuate belly rolls
on fat girls
where do little
fat girls go
when angered
to the bathroom
to practice in front of a mirror
the punches
they’d throw to knock nasty
boys out cold
right in front of the other boys
c’mere you asshole and call me
blubber-face again
where do little
fat girls go
when they grow up
into athletics
to a gym
to a clinic for eating disorders
to a triathlon in south africa
to marry a rich man
to liposuction
to marry a poor man
so there’s nothing to eat
to work at a candy store
for self-torture
or they become
a poet
where do little
fat girls go
when they die
I won’t tell!
