April 2, 2011 § Leave a comment
By Jeff Barnes
I’m leaving, she said, tearing as she packed
the auburn & beige suitcase
with her leg fat
and back fat and the fat
from her fat. She began to cry
harder when she realized there was not enough
room in the suitcase she’d chosen
for all the fat she had
to pack. Take my father’s
suitcase from the closet, I said.
She huffed, and then filled my father’s suitcase
with the fat from her ankles,
wrists and neck. There’s some liquor boxes
in the basement; would you like
me to get them?
Yes, she said.
She was pushing the packed fat down
with both hands, really
putting her weight into it,
only to watch helplessly as the fat
bulged and plopped-
out from my father’s suitcase. Seeing her
she laughed. There’s just so much
fat, she said.
Yes, there is, I said.
Her eyes softened, she smiled.
Why don’t we talk, I said.
I’ll make your favorite meal,
mayo and banana on white.
Okay, she said, and
began unpacking her fat.
I hugged her