I have lost a great deal of weight
but don’t feel much different
other than marveling at my pants
not fitting the same as before

and my mind moving in fits
and magic and slovenly fashion,
casually expecting things to be the same
as they ever were — that song

repeating itself in my own
slapped head, like David Byrne’s —
same as it ever was except it’s
different, again always the difference —

my suit of clothes bigger than normal
so I laugh at myself unless I cry;
same as it ever was,
same as it ever was

for I have lost more than weight
and it comes and it goes. Right now it’s gone,
but it will return until one day,
one fine day indeed, it will not come back.

I then will see all my old body again
as I see it now — fleshy
and flabby, bulky and crowded
with old thoughts,

and I will say,
oh, my. Then I will get some
groceries — some peanut butter;
enough for one day, one sandwich,

and I won’t
finish it.
Same as I never do.
Same as it ever was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T