Tuesday, March 20, 2018



Tofu fried in coconut oil.
Just a little bit of fat;
fat that belonged on my bones.
Fat you melted off of them
with your icy glare
and your wild, uneven heartbeat.
Fat that took up space;
that had once dared to exist
and had left me
to deal with the winter on my own.

Fat that I needed on my organs.
Fat as a protective barrier
around my heart.

I consumed fat--just a little
bit of fat--
as an insistence on my right
to have form
and tangibility.
I slipped behind you carefully,
in the shadows.
I knew my defiant act of existence
must be a secret.

You found out about the tofu
fried in coconut oil.
But it was too late.
I had already built enough onto myself
to shed you.
- Samantha Clarke

New Words

Those freakish fingers creep through the fourth dimension
to prod at me,
time itself no barrier
to the inflictions you insist upon.

I overturn stones,
like a fool,
and find all the mold and insects
I should have expected.

Of course it was you.

Of course it always was.

I have had to learn new words
to understand what you did to me.

- Samantha Clark

Pits & Bits

I have hair in my pits
And on more of my bits
Is this a problem for you?
Well, I don’t give a shit

Except maybe when
I’m wearing that tank
And I reach up to scratch my nose
At the bank

And you give me that stare
Yeah you, over there
From the edge of your chair
With that flip of your hair

There’s this flap of flesh that dangles
From that very same arm
Ignoring those bits
Are part of my charm

Sure, maybe I’m fooling myself
But is it bothering you?
Tell me, seriously, do you have
Nothing better to do?

Are you even judging me?
Or is that my internal voice?
Maybe you didn’t even notice
My stance, my choice

The good news is
I wasn’t asking you
To tell me who I am
Or tell me what to do

Razors be damned, it’s cold out right now
Guys don’t gotta; neither dost thou
So here’s my last warning: if you’re looking at my pits
And you’re squeamish about female body hair?

Tough shit.

- Beth Dranoff

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