JewelStock '96
Fat
There she sat, a mound
of flesh
with just two
eyes to comprehend
the extensiveness
of her being.
She made a mountaint
of herself,
so no one could
look down.
So no one would
miss or fail to see
the tiny woman
hands that talked
desperately of
delicate things.
Through a fist
full of rings
to all who would
stop and listen.
Poetry from JewelStock '96
Copyright Jewel Kilcher
1996
Page Copyright 1998 Foolish
Games