photo: ralph murre
The Fat
Men
with reference to Eliot’s
poem: “The Hollow Men”
by
Gary C. Busha
We
are the fat men.
We
are the stuffed men
leaning
together like slabs of bacon . . .
Our
throaty voices,
when
our mouths are full,
are
brash and boastful
as
trombones and tubas,
and
heavy as clydesdales
on
the earthen floor of dank barns.
This
is the big land.
This
is the heavy land.
Here
the opulent images
are
raised, here they receive
hams
and puddings,
the
supplication of banquet and feast
under
the sagging bellies of tables . . .
The
ribs are here.
There
are hamhocks here.
In
this valley of corpulence,
in
this glen of gluttony,
in
this lavish, creamy kingdom . . .
Between
the chops
and
the applesauce,
between
the baked beans
and
potatoes, falls
the
shadow,
big
in circumference . . .
Between
the pastries
and
the lamb chops,
between
the sot and the rum,
between
the mid-course and desert,
falls
the napkin,
soiled
and crumpled . . .
This
is the way the fat comes,
this
is the way the fat comes,
this
is the way the fat comes,
not
with the salad but with the stuffing.
~
first published in PAGE 5
