By Abrahim Harb
Reaching for my bifocal glasses—
remembering without them I can’t see at all.
I extend my legs over the edge of my bed—
remembering how my thighs jiggle when I run.
and I get out of bed, stroll over to the mirror—
staring at my five chins consumes my time.
Jiggle, jiggle goes my fat, as I brush my teeth.
I remove my pants, then my shirt. I stand one food on the rug—
staring now at my man boobs hang there.
My eyes suddenly shift over to my thinning hair—
recalling a time when it was fuller.
I hurriedly put my clothes on, leaving the water running—
recalling the little self-esteem I had while clothed consumes my mind.
I go back to my room.
I’m fat.
I jiggle.
I jiggle.
I’m fat.
I’m fat.
I jiggle
* * * *
The smell of food wafts from the kitchen downstairs.
I click the “x”
and stare at my thoughts disappear into cyberspace.
Close my laptop—
leaping up from the chair and swiftly galloping towards the kitchen, like a horse in the wild.
