I’m some sweet lolita
—or maybe my thighs
just squeezed these floral sheets to lace—
with hips so thick, you could shave
eight layers before hitting bone.
Eight again: my father buys me a pink pinafore.
Three hours later, I slap a spoon from his hand.
His lighter scorches the little ruffles.
I change into black pants.
Chart notes read, BMI 41.2: morbidly obese. Patient smokes
“at least a pack a day.” Have recommended cessation & diet regime.
I step out to call home. A nurse compliments my
shortcake purse. Line rings; I kick stones. Hitch jeans.
Flatten three grackles against a white sky.
How quickly I’ve puckered, become the doily that never levels.
Poem reprinted with permission from T.A. Noonan. Poem also appeared in Skeins & Schisms.
T.A. NOONAN is the author of the chapbooks Balm and Darjeeling. Her full-length collections—Petticoat Government and The Bone Folders—are forthcoming from Gold Wake Press and Cracked Slab Books, respectively. Individual publications have appeared in Ninth Letter, RHINO, Phoebe, Harpur Palate, and many others. Currently, she lives with her husband in St. Augustine, Florida.