Being Fat (Phat) in America

Being Fat (Phat) in Amerika

Dan Windisch 5/15/00 minor changes 01/19/15
Preface note: This poem was originally written 15 years ago, before I had gastric bypass surgery. The poem is still very true. Please, see beauty beyond a person’s weight. See the beauty of their soul.

Ph is a measure of corrosiveness …

of extremes ….
The more extreme the Ph, the more corrosive it is.
Phat, P-H-A-T is the corrosive, and permitted, hatred of Amerika.

This venom of our society is aimed acceptably, openly, at Phat people.
In our politically correct society you don’t make phun, p-h-u-n,
of people of color, ethnic origin, or sexual preference.
Yet we laugh at phat people.
Make fun of phat people.
Slur the will-power of phat people.

Look at me,
look at my stat,
I’m phat!

At 51, 5’10” hovering gently a round 360 pounds.
HUGE gut before me, large rounded phace, huge arms,
yet … padded warm hands, nice legs muscled from cherished walks, small behind.

I look down,
steaming,  warm,  happy,
after a hot shower,
and can’t see my …

Like my mother prophesied,
to that skinny little boy,
who ate those watermelon seeds,
I am huge.
Is that a watermelon in my tummy?
I think not,

You see You judge.
Phat — No will power, out of control, Un-sexy, addicted to food,
weak… but phunny,
lonely, unattractive, somewhat disgusting,
DEFINITELY not as strong, or in control as You, You the skinny.

Yet am I who you see? That phat, phunny, punny, phifty-one year old?
Or am I that skinny little boy in the picture,
with that phar away look,
lost in books of dreams,
that skinny  little boy who who gave up lunch money, went hungry,
to buy adventure books
at the Scholastic School book Sale?

Or am I that skinny teen-ager on the front porch in his rented prom tux?

Or am I that picture of a young, slightly overweight, naval officer
with the warm eyes,
who every morning at 5AM in Officer Candidate School
had to Run with the other phat boys?

Yew trees heal.  I wish you would be yew and allow me to be me.

Which me do you see? Which one do you judge?
You judge the one you now see…
I’ll let yew in on a secret though, that’s just a small part
of me.

And I’ll let yew in on another secret too.
Phat people I know,
those not destroyed by the venom of society,
love more deeply,
cherish more fully,
are more sensual,
are better lovers,
and cherish more deeply,
than their many, skinny, smug and mean persecutors,
whose skinny superiority is their main cherished reality.

I’ve been skinny and I’ve been phat, and I know that …
It is who I am,
and what I blossom out of who I am,
that matters.
Not how skinny, not how phat.

I am more beautiful now than ever before in my life! I know that.
Does yewr soul eyes see my beauty?
or do you see only the phat man in front of you?

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