Fat Bottom Girl Said What

The Things We Carry

one day you just stop caring
because it’s easier that way
and it’s not like anyone notices anyway
except for those of us
with hearts like swiss cheese
battle wounded by love
carrying around the PTSD
like a rucksack on your back
nick nack paddywhack
give the bitch a bone
because some men think you want it
even when you say no
screaming it in your head
though it struggles to escape your mouth
because who are you
but a drunk girl looking for attention
and affection from filthy hands
and you always know
you always remember
when they didn’t listen
because the next day
and the day after that
your churning gut reminds you
you can’t look at yourself in the mirror
without wanting to scrape your fingernails
down your face to erase the ugly emanating from inside
and even now
thirty years later
you still don’t like what you see
and think you still deserve only the things
no one else wants

Hell On Earth

They said they’d pray for you

they’re all sending thoughts and prayers

as if spoken or silent words to non-existent deities
could get the blood out from under your fingernails
or the coppery stench of it from your nose

Pray motherfucker pray

while people continue to die
in the name of all that is holy
in the name of psychosis
in the name of wars fought in minds you know nothing about

while you read your book of fairy tales
and give peace to the asshole sitting by you
who will go home and beat his wife after Sunday dinner
because the roast was too dry

Your prayers fall on deaf ears

if there is a god

he’s ignoring you and the entire flock
as everyone here begs for an end to the madness
and destruction and devastation
in this hell on earth