15/03
Remembered snippets from a dream:
‘Cut out the crap’, they say. An inch off the plate is an inch off your waist. Don’t have your cake and eat it. I eat and I eat and I eat. I swim in it; I wallow. I’m an animal in a dirt bath. I collect the tabs off teabags, and the lids from bottles of coke. I have boxes of discarded labels and the cellophane from sandwich wrappers. In my house as in my stomach. They stew, they twist, they grow and distort. My shelves and my insides. I cut the crap, I do. I cut it into manageable bites. Little bits. A chew here, a suck there, a lick to catch the drip that runs and drops.
