You’re an amazing poet. No, you’re an amazing poet. No, YOU are an amazing poet. You are the amazing one. You are. No you. You. Stop, you know it’s you. Okay, yeah you’re right, it’s me.
Author Archive | Lisa Zaran
Yeah, so like whatever. Cool. Uh huh. Wait, what? So like call you? Can’t I just text? Lol. I swear to god mom you’re such a mom, freakin’ A, like yeah. Okay cool. Out.
At conception another diet failed. I gained forty eight pounds and waddled like a duck. The doctor warned me, mind your calories. I went home and ate twice as much. Delivery was nothing compared to the bulge, mother of all battles. When the doctor amputated my belly, he forgot to take my thighs.
Papa tore the seam out. Mama tore the hem out. Papa said to fix it. Mama said to sew it. Mama snapped a button. Papa broke a snap. Papa said to mend it. Mama said no.