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Poem: First Impression 

I do not like my knees
they. Offend
my sense of aesthetics.
So. Jammed into my leg
so. Unbony my knees
belong on a FAT
GIRL’S body I am. Fat. Really. Just look. Oh
NO, I don’t mean really look—
look. Past me
please.
Look into my. EYES
into. Not the color of my eyes
the brown that leads. There
such a pedestrian. Soul I’ve got
it my. Comfort ZONE
here
at the tip of my index finger
LOOK. Just
there, right there
at the tip. NO! Not
the cuticle
but the whisper
of fingernail that shows here
at the end.
That crescent. That
moony sliver ah
yes. That’s it.
That’s the spot.

Speaking of Poetry, aesthetics

  • I do not like my knees they. Offend my sense of aesthetics.

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