Fat Bottom Girl Said What

It's not about the ass, it's about the attitude!

The Poison Pen

Well, it happened today, and I have to say I’m just a bit excited. This uncouth, somewhat raunchy, fat bottom girl got her very first poem published in an actual publication, not just something I printed out of my garage on that old mimeograph machine.

It’s the first time I’ve ever had anything published, and I’m so glad it’s on Elephant Journal. Have you ever checked out Elephant Journal? It’s got a little bit of everything–poetry, astrology, relationship advice, healthy living, yoga–really, just a plethora of knowledge from tons of different authors.  Best part is, it’s almost free.  I say almost, because you can read three articles each day for free. I could never stop at three, so I bought a subscription for a mere $13 for a whole year, and it’s been some of the best money I’ve ever spent.

But without further ado, please, I’m begging you, go read, share with your friends, stay to read a couple more articles. Most of all, enjoy, as I’m hoping this is a first in a long line of published writing for me.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/08/leave-now-poem/

It’s the Little Things

Coffee cups stained from daily use
and the passage of time
minute cracks of the porcelain surface allowing the
infiltration of the smoky dark liquid

So much meaningless discourse meaning everything,
shared while clutching these cups
now warming arthritic fingers, tangled by tasks and touches
and years which have slipped by, often without notice

How many more times
will we fill the cups before one morning
One shall remain empty

*Posted originally on The Fat Bottom Bard.

Thieves

I drink the wine
straight from the bottle
because there’s no need
for niceties anymore
No reason
to put on airs and pretend I’m sexy
So I don flannel pants and an oversized shirt
for comfort
Why do I allow you to take
all the good parts of me
when you go

*Originally posted on The Fat Bottom Bard.

Announcement

Wanted to share a little news with you all.  No, I’m not pregnant. That would be a physical impossibility at this point in my life, for numerous reasons.

I submitted a poem, which I posted here on my blog, to elephant journal, and they have accepted it for publication.  I was quite excited, since this was the first time I had ever submitted anything, anywhere. Thankfully they were kind enough not to make me wait too long, until they responded.

I will post the link when it’s published, and I hope you will take time to check out my poem, if you haven’t already, and elephant journal.  I’ve fallen in love with elephant journal over the last few months, and I hope you do too!

Leave Now

“Leave now,” she said, “before I grow accustomed to your voice saying my name.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before I miss the weight of you in the bed and your hand upon my hip.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before we have a song we always dance to in the kitchen when it comes on the radio.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before I miss the feel of your lips upon mine and the smell of you upon my skin.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before we have jokes between us that no one else understands, and shared secrets.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before you make me believe in love and possibilities and tomorrows.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before you break my heart.”

Steps

Last Sunday I stepped on to a plane mourning being separated from my son once again.  I stepped off the plane to a different kind of mourning–the death of my step-brother.

Step-families are a totally other dimension.  I can’t say I’m overly close to any of my step-siblings, even after 30 years, but my step-brother was by far, my favorite.

He was more like a cool party buddy.  I tried to avoid family functions if he wasn’t going to be there, because he was the only thing that made them fun.  He and my brother and I would sit around and talk about his youngest sister, because none of us liked her.  She’s a bossy busybody, who thinks the world should revolve around her.  Which, she has once again proven by sending out a group text asking everyone to bring birthday cards for her 26 year old son because obviously, her brother had the gall to die and have his funeral on her son’s birthday. What. The. Ever. Loving. Fuck.

I told my step-brother in my head that he will have to help me bite my tongue when I’m around her.  And my brother and I joked that it was just the sort of bullshit that all of us would be laughing about if we were sitting around drinking together on another occasion.

But none of this changes the fact my step-mother has lost her son, and my niece has lost her father, and her children have lost their grandpa. On Monday, I will lift my glass to him because he’s the only one who ever made me feel like I was ever a part of that family. And I will miss him, and I will thank the universe I still have my brother.

 

 

The Seas of You

I try to draw a breath
but my lungs won’t expand
to allow it

A wet veil has been
placed about my head
and it threatens to cut off
the life force of air

Swimming in your seas
has left me with a fear of drowning

“Test the waters you fool,” says my chastising voice. “Never dive in head first. When are you going to learn your lesson?”

But all is lost in the abyss
my ears are covered with water
and blackness begins to swirl around me

Skin Hunger

Like a blind person
I want to explore every inch of your skin
and commit it to memory
I want to taste your tattoos with my tongue
and bury my nose in your neck
so I can inhale the scent of you
and feel the goosebumps my lips create
as I brush them down your back
fingertips feather light
following the trail my lips make
grazing your ass with my hands
stopping only to grip your thighs
and feel the cord of muscle within
completing my journey
by pressing my nakedness
against yours
absorbing the rhythms of your body
through osmosis
so I can carry the song of you with me
wherever I go

False Gods

I gave you too much of my truth
I presented you my soul stripped bare
like a communion wafer
laid upon your tongue
so you could devour
the very essence of me

And you chewed me up
and spit me out
and picked your teeth
with my bones

What gave you the right
to preach your gospel
while I tossed
my coins of devotion
into your collection plate
only to have you
lay waste to me
as I knelt down before you

You are the worst kind of deity
a devil in disguise
and I refuse to worship you

Sex Lube and Fine Dining

Kiwi-Strawberry, Passionfruit, Sweet Cherry, Tropical Punch. None of those flavors gets me in the mood, and they actually make me feel like someone might yell out “Hey Kool-Aid” and a giant pitcher is going to come busting through the wall, so who in the hell ever thought fruit flavored sex lube was a good idea?

I like pina coladas, but I don’t want one slathered on my cooter, and I certainly don’t want to have to lick it off some dude’s meat sword!

My mouth may spew expletives and be crass, but I have a rather refined palette. I like good food and drinks.  I want taste explosions in my mouth.  I want my culinary experiences to be as pleasurable as sex, so that got me to thinking.

Why not combine the two?

I think lube should start coming in flavors like filet mignon, or merlot, or chocolate mousse,or maybe Texas BBQ brisket flavor, which would come with a bonus of Lonestar flavored edible undies.

Or maybe hot beef sandwich flavor, or apple pie, or cinnamon roll.

Or maybe even a sushi flavored one. (Lord help you if you don’t need a lube to attain that particular flavor!)

Pretty sure I need to get a patent for this stuff.  Seriously.  This could be the next big thing.

Just think about it.

When was the last time you saw your man tear into anything fruity?  You want your man lusting after you like he lusts after a T-bone and a shot of whiskey.

And guys, can you think of a better way to get your woman to orally pleasure you than to rub some lube flavored like chocolate salted caramel on your weiner?

That’s what I thought.

If you need me I’ll be at the patent office.

P.S. I’m taking applications from men who’d like to help me taste test.

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