Patty. Andy.
&
Those Friendly Bones
by khf
If you were fat in 1970s New Jersey
you knew about Lean Line--
a Weight Watchers wannabe
without the fish
And a founder
one hundred and fifty pounds overweight
passing for skinny
in that delusional world
A snake pit of disordered eating
where every fat cell was stick-pinned with abuse trauma
Only we thought we were just fat
I was fat--
fat and snarky
Out looking for bear
Or glimmers of hope
whichever came first
Patti sparkled--
the party light in every group
And glowed--
a kind arm around many troubled shoulders
But Patty, too, was fat
And so it was
in a stuffy meeting hall
where fat women gather for miracles
we begin the war against ourselves
Water, lots of it
Great slabs of lettuce
And good thoughts, positive thoughts, skinny thoughts
Every pound lost
a grand celebration of Lean Line applause
We begin to dissolve
Melt away
our repulsive bodies
and
chase bones
Those friendly bones
Cheek bones. Hip Bones. Collarbones.
As hunger claws at our guts
Weigh every morsel
Record every swallow
And chew, chew, chew
until that damn piece of chicken turns to dust
in our mouths
Applause for not eating
that cupcake
For not eating at all
While we evaporate
Vanishing women
chasing those friendly bones
Soon, Patty takes her skeleton
and runs home
back to Spode china
and real food
I keep chasing those friendly bones
A stick figure
A shadow
A slip of my former self
My mother does not recognize me
when I arrive for a Florida visit
How can she not recognize these friendly bones
Women take notice
threatened by my friendly bones
Cavemen--
knuckles dragging the ground--
take notice
Patty’s husband takes notice
of my friendly bones
Cheek bones. Hip Bones. Collarbone.
And begs me to kiss him
Come on
he says
nobody will know
and pulls my arm
trying to force me onto his lap
Andy--
just another predator
gnawing meat off my bones
These are my bones
My friendly bones
My friendly bones nourish me
comfort me
Please me
as I skim my fingers across
my scrawny bodyscape
I have never known such pleasure
Such power
These friendly bones
I alone possess
I scrape the crud off these bones
Pare away the plump flesh
Carrion--
that has suffered
the beaks of vultures
that circle in the day
and feast in the night
Cannibals
like Andy
demanding their turn with my bones
Sparkle Patty
Andy—with his fugitive, rocky heart
in the danger zone
of sex and unrest
with years yet to unfurl
In the Lean Line borderland
of health and obsession
starvation and well-being
where self-confidence and self-loathing
battle
for the spirits and bodies
of wounded women--
I take my first brutal steps
toward wholeness
A vicious fight
to reclaim my bones
from the blighted wilderness
left by savages
I dig. And dig. And dig through the layers
reaching for friendly bones
Yes
a shadow of my long-ago,1970s self
Old bones now
Ancient bones
Bones of the earth
Bones of the horizon
Are you still there, bones?
Yes!
they reply
We’re here! We’re Here!
Old Bones. Sacred Bones. Friendly Bones.
My Bones.
khf/11.10.22
&
Those Friendly Bones
by khf
If you were fat in 1970s New Jersey
you knew about Lean Line--
a Weight Watchers wannabe
without the fish
And a founder
one hundred and fifty pounds overweight
passing for skinny
in that delusional world
A snake pit of disordered eating
where every fat cell was stick-pinned with abuse trauma
Only we thought we were just fat
I was fat--
fat and snarky
Out looking for bear
Or glimmers of hope
whichever came first
Patti sparkled--
the party light in every group
And glowed--
a kind arm around many troubled shoulders
But Patty, too, was fat
And so it was
in a stuffy meeting hall
where fat women gather for miracles
we begin the war against ourselves
Water, lots of it
Great slabs of lettuce
And good thoughts, positive thoughts, skinny thoughts
Every pound lost
a grand celebration of Lean Line applause
We begin to dissolve
Melt away
our repulsive bodies
and
chase bones
Those friendly bones
Cheek bones. Hip Bones. Collarbones.
As hunger claws at our guts
Weigh every morsel
Record every swallow
And chew, chew, chew
until that damn piece of chicken turns to dust
in our mouths
Applause for not eating
that cupcake
For not eating at all
While we evaporate
Vanishing women
chasing those friendly bones
Soon, Patty takes her skeleton
and runs home
back to Spode china
and real food
I keep chasing those friendly bones
A stick figure
A shadow
A slip of my former self
My mother does not recognize me
when I arrive for a Florida visit
How can she not recognize these friendly bones
Women take notice
threatened by my friendly bones
Cavemen--
knuckles dragging the ground--
take notice
Patty’s husband takes notice
of my friendly bones
Cheek bones. Hip Bones. Collarbone.
And begs me to kiss him
Come on
he says
nobody will know
and pulls my arm
trying to force me onto his lap
Andy--
just another predator
gnawing meat off my bones
These are my bones
My friendly bones
My friendly bones nourish me
comfort me
Please me
as I skim my fingers across
my scrawny bodyscape
I have never known such pleasure
Such power
These friendly bones
I alone possess
I scrape the crud off these bones
Pare away the plump flesh
Carrion--
that has suffered
the beaks of vultures
that circle in the day
and feast in the night
Cannibals
like Andy
demanding their turn with my bones
Sparkle Patty
Andy—with his fugitive, rocky heart
in the danger zone
of sex and unrest
with years yet to unfurl
In the Lean Line borderland
of health and obsession
starvation and well-being
where self-confidence and self-loathing
battle
for the spirits and bodies
of wounded women--
I take my first brutal steps
toward wholeness
A vicious fight
to reclaim my bones
from the blighted wilderness
left by savages
I dig. And dig. And dig through the layers
reaching for friendly bones
Yes
a shadow of my long-ago,1970s self
Old bones now
Ancient bones
Bones of the earth
Bones of the horizon
Are you still there, bones?
Yes!
they reply
We’re here! We’re Here!
Old Bones. Sacred Bones. Friendly Bones.
My Bones.
khf/11.10.22