Archive for April, 2013

Waiting Out the Day

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 29, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé

Folks in the neighborhood

sit sweating, squished together

on front steps, front stoops,

sippin’ lemonades or PBR

tall boys–too cool–to sit,

slump against the walls

or spin b-balls

or throw out dope flows,

crump against the rhythm–

and I drift by, watching them–

posing for a perpetual family portrait.


I remember the folks

in the old neighborhood

who’d sit and sweat and swat flies,

on their multicolored multi-rusted

antique iron patio chairs,

on cracked up concrete.

Still sippin’ lemonade or

somethin’ stronger, and

hummin’ a tune, Elvis or

the Beatles maybe, tappin’ a foot,

waitin’ out the day till supper.


Things are louder, now.

But it’s pretty much the same.


Fat and Happy/Not a “Before”

Posted in Fat Activism, Opinion, Personal Notes with tags , , , , on April 28, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé

I’ve been inundated by updates from friends who’ve made “successes” and “progressions” in their lives. And I’m happy for them–when they’re happy about those changes.

But–and maybe this is me being selfish or pessimistic–I can’t support them. At least, not in the way they probably want me to.

Sure, I will sometimes hit facebook’s “like,” on the photos and posts about your wedding or your kids, about your new car, house, or body. That post about how you made it through a marathon (and then got drunk [yes, sometimes this is a post]), or how you cooked your dinner. Sure, a quick “like” is easy enough, especially if I’m amused.

But does that mean that I support your decisions? Not necessarily.

Especially–specifically: those before-and-after photos of your weight loss. Ugh.

You know how someone created an app for blocking baby pictures on facebook? I want one for fat-activists, to block before-and-after’s.

I’m fat.

I am not a “before.” You weren’t, either.

You aren’t an “after,” now. Would you really want to be?

You are living in the moment of having lost weight. You think this moment is magically better because of it. And it is so, because you think it.

But the truth is, you always could be happy–even when you were fat. Gasp! What a revelation. I know.

Being fat and feeling badly about that state are two separate things. Society generally sends a message that we should feel badly about being fat. But we can rewrite that message. Our feelings are ours–we have them moment-to-moment. We can be happy and feel good while being fat.

My weight has fluctuated plenty in my adult life. It will surely continue to do so. However, I have found it generally sticks around the same thing it is RIGHT NOW–which means I’m technically “obese.” (Side note: I got fed up with the Wii Fit a long time ago, mostly because every time I stepped on it, I got the cutesy “hee, that’s obsese,” response–which I find especially suspicious coming from a Japanese design–ALL AMERICANS ARE OBESE compared to the Japanese. Unless, of course, you are Perfect Human Chris Traeger.)

My being fat or obese does not mean I am unhealthy. Oh, and if I am unhealthy (which would be between me and my doctor, if I had one–meaning, if I had health insurance [different-but-not-unrelated issue…]), it doesn’t mean I’m unhappy.

My point, dear formerly-fat-people, is I don’t care that you lost weight. I don’t “like” blatant before-and-after images. I might “like” pictures of you wherein you look really, really, happy. Or you’re holding an adorable cat, or a particularly-becoming lasagna. I might “like” a photo because of the background, for gosh’s sakes. And yeah, maybe your point was, you are all-kindsa skinny now, and you’re happy about that.

Be happy. Please, be happy. But don’t hitch your happiness to the skinny-wagon.

Cause, I bet that your weight will fluctuate, too. I bet at some point, that Wii voice will shrilly tell you that you’re obese, because you happened to put on a few pounds over the holidays, or hit the weights a lot and gained muscle, or hell, maybe a cat is clinging to your back for dear life.

If you’re truly happy, you don’t really need to post before-and-after photographs. You just…post photographs. (Or, you just…live? [I don’t get it either!])


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Dark & Stormies

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 27, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé


our asses numb from hours on the bench,

smoky tongues rolling out ringing words as

pat, pit, pat–from the drainpipe–

rum-ginger burning our throats,

tipsy but not seeing double, fired up

in the darkness, cool breezes caressing

our cheeks as we make plans

to take over the world,

listen to 90’s pop songs,

and inhale the damp

electric dusty air

till whoo, whoo, whoowhoowhoo

call the cardinals,

and we slump off to slumber.

Flying Solo

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 26, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé

Honk, honk, honk: we are flying solo,

pumping hard, hoping for the winds to change,

working endlessly. Our wings are battered,

beaten by the battle with gravity.

But still, we find enough energy to call,

honk, honk, honk: hear me shout,

hear me seek you out, you solo flyers!

Let’s boomerang, this wide world over,

following the sun and the currents and the

honk, honk, honks of whoever is at the head

of our formation. Flump down when our

winds are gone or we’re just too tired. And

then clomp, clump, slump, pump, pump, pump until

we rise again–out of grace,

but not yet out of time.

Bridge of Sighs

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , on April 26, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé

I fear I’ll write this poem, in some way, for the rest of my days.


Bridge of Sighs

The only crossing tumbles into the deepest cavern.

There’s nothing left to traverse this river, but a bridge of sighs.

Wait, for hours that become infinite years full of expectation,

and later, regret for time wasted, and down the line

tearful acceptance that the only route you could, should

have taken, fell away when the green light faded,

when the doors closed and waving farewell, you greeted

a thorny path of stones to be thrown, or stacked,

or used to build a new pathway–

perhaps a nice one;

but harder.

Start / End

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 24, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé

I’m bad at knowing where to start or end a poem.

Does it start at Hello? or Goodbye? and how do you

transition into a meaningful bit about longing for sunrise?

of a splashing duck? of sushi? of an angry parliament

in any country? how do you cross the line between

desirable and disarming or disruptive and disgusting?

I come up with lines or words or phrases or worse

I come up with someone else’s and don’t know it

because words are everywhere all the time forever

and it’s too big to track, to follow, so I start and then–

Forgetting is Optional

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 24, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé

I-I-eyes crossing,

What am eye anymore?

Am eye my own best friend?

Worst enemy? For sure.

Am eye looking through a door,

to see what’s nevermore? are ewe

shearing sheep and searing

flesh, addressing these concerns

through rotten cotton?

Not forgotten, not forbidden,

somewhere between admittance and

rejection, seeing ewe,

distorted, thwarted by a plague–

a plaque, a headstone on

your wholesome, lonesome grave.