Fat Sue

17 girls stacked
their brains
together to create that one
imaginary Sue.
They whisked her out of the air
during the 5 hour stuffy-
cramped bus ride to camp.

Strapped to the top of the bus,
Sue’s hair flaps like a loose strap
clamping down a luggage carrier
on the highway. Her voice, a high
pitch shriek echoing in the wind.
17 girls
and one Fat Sue.

Sara gives Sue
a baseball cap, Bethany gives her
a dimpled chin. On they go,
stretching and molding
Sue into the lump that she is.
17 girls
and one Fat Sue.

Six toes. No,
four. Glasses. No,
bifocals. Retainer. No,
braces. Draw on
freckles and a wart.
A black mole on the
bridge of her nose.
A belly
the size of a basketball. No,
the size of a cow.
A sweet tooth and countless
trips to McDonalds. She’s
so big she could roll
our tin can on wheels
over the median.
17 girls
and one Fat Sue.

A figment of
our imaginations.
Sue “Boo.”
“Curly” Sue.
“Big” Sue.
Just plain ole’ Sue.
My Fat Sue.

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