Gasp

Mom slaps me. Dad spanks me. Fuck them. They can’t remember being a kid.

Mi Libro Es Tu Historia (digital from painting), acrylic, solid marker, cel vinyl on canvas, 48 x 90 inches, 2015

They call me a “ faggot, ” because I wear my backpack with both straps. Welcome to third grade, Pussy Boy.

1. She looks at me and rolls her eyes. I know what that means, her face so telling. In intervals she grabs my fat. It is not accurate to call them “love,” but “handles,” is apropos. It hurts my feelings, I become saddened. Not because I feel she prefers a not fat, me, but because I fight accepting how I have let myself slip into the Big of big and tall. When I court her, court seems fitting, I lose