thin (Remove filter)
Brown Bread
she's a great cook to be fair,
puts fine grub on the table,
sees me eat up with gusto
as best as my belly is able
she has a bread-maker now,
flour and yeast and pastry,
I must mind my waistline,
dont gobble it up too hasty
upset she is at what I leave,
fat gander getting force-fed,
guts so leaden and swollen
I'm no longer good in bed
obesity roost...
Wednesday 7th April 2021 10:15 am
dysmorphia
Sometimes I stand there
In front of the mirror
And my stomach grows
My thighs fatten
My chins double
As I stare at myself
I can feel the food inside me
Bloating and distending me
From inside out
I rush to clothe myself
In case they no longer fit by the time I am finished
In case my fingers become too fat
And sausage like
To do up my buttons
I feel sick at ...
Monday 6th July 2015 5:45 pm
Recent Comments
Yanma Hidayah on “I Don’t Believe in My Wings”
16 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on Stopping the Cuts
9 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on According to the poet
9 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Wishes Come True
14 hours ago
David RL Moore on The nutritional value of a bullet
16 hours ago
David RL Moore on According to the poet
16 hours ago
John Coopey on HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND
17 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on “I Don’t Believe in My Wings”
19 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on According to the poet
19 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Fame
20 hours ago