Pork and Goon

by Regis Boff

I am big. At all stages of my life, I was the largest and was the prey of others fun. I do not ever look at myself in mirrors. I avoid large windows that might bear my reflection as I walk by them on the street.
Clothing sizes always stopped climbing before they got to anything I could wear. I had to shop at big and tall shops. I refer to them as “pork and goon” stores.
Most races have targeted words you can’t use to describe them. Women have word combinations that are banned as well. People with physical irregularities get treated with kid gloves as though with just one word from me they will see the prominent aspect of their lives.
I have a lot in common with Black people. They get a pass on calling themselves their forbidden names. I am entitled to do so too and when I refer to myself as a “fat cow” people are palpably relieved. They will laugh and laugh. They are pleased the cat is out of the bag, and everybody is ready with their only knowledge, diet advice. I hate them for that.
I have always resented gay men. I never feel sorry for them. Fuck em’. They all have what I continuously craved more than anything else. Places to shop for clothes that might fit.

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