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

effort’s futility,

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



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