Down---)the---)Drain---)

I must confess:
I never digest.
Dinner never makes it past my chest.

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and I must admit:
I (think I) look like shit.
The face ain’t quite right and the skin’s a tight fit.
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and I must say:
I hate to flutuate
to inflate, and then over-compensate
to over-eat and remain under-weight
is hell &
--it’s hard--
(to disspell)

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so I’ll tell you:
sometimes I hate things this way
in (in)complete disarray
M O O D
is the only food I lap up
off life’s tray...
into an empty belly / an empty soul / an empty head /
an empty hole.

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and I must inquire:
why does the esteem go low
when the weight gets higher?
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And I must question:
does my heavy confession
cause YOU indigestion?...
Is it unsettling that this disorder
belongs to your son
and not to your daughter?

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and I must divulge:
I have a growing bulge
of increasing urge
to binge and purge
and binge and purge
and binge and purge
and binge and purge
Lunch was de-lish, though we never quite merged.
And for dessert, I had coffee w/ skim & not cream
‘cuz I wannabe perfect like him (and him, or him),
not me.

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Now I’m thin as a pin and
on the verge
of losing

(another)

pound-for-pound
getting it down

(another)

ounce-for-ounce
(you can see)
every miniscule molecule
counts.

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Yup, this Thin White Duke
is fessing up:
he’s in the shitter, puking up
his bloody guts
I Never wanna be the (fat) butt of another joke
Let those far away days go up in black smoke--

and so--

-------
I must plead:
please, feed me
the strength I need
to compete w/ the pretty(-er) Big City Boys,
to get down w/ the Nitty-Gritty Boys,
to stay at a steady one-fifty, boys
(though I think I’m actually one-forty-one
depending on my poise)

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--and, girls--
I need to move to a new world
where unusual is the new beautiful
where different is what’s suitable
where I don’t have to get thinner
and thinner
and thinner
and thinner
to be the BIGGEST,
the All*Star Winner.

-------
I must verbalize
(before I’m fertilizer):

I don’t want to croak
w/ my finger down my throat--
dead,
head-first in the toilet,
afloat.

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But if I do, you really must
weigh me down before you ~flush~.

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.dp. 03
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awesome poetry my thin fallow fellow but me thinks..
..you need some steam for your self esteem.
you're young I think and a little pink
but it doesn't matter what I think
or anyone else for that matter.
please excuse my offbeat banter
I've had too much too drink
I think
a vodka martini largo
and some beer and wine and more but go
on ahead I'm old I'll lag behind
There's no flush in the future my thin fallow friend.
You need to love yourself and the torture will end.
*stinkle-fucking-toes*
(good night I've had too much too drink)
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..I think