anthem for my belly after eating too much

i look in the mirror, and all the chips i’ve eaten

this month have accumulated

like schoolwork at the bottom of my tummy,

my belly—a country i’m trying to love.

my mouth is a lover devoted to you, my belly, my belly

the birds will string a song together

with wind for you and your army

of solids, militia of grease.

americans love excess, but we also love jeans,

and refuse to make excess comfortable in them.

i step into a fashionable prison,

my middle managed and fastened into

suffering. my gracious gut,

dutiful dome, i will wear a house for you

that you can live in, promise walls

that embrace your growing flesh,

and watch you reach toward everything possible.