The staff of Woman's Day wouldn’t be so gauche
as to suggest there’s a thin woman inside me

screaming for egress.  Their sumptuous cover cakes
are to be cooked, but never eaten oneself, communion

given by martyred suburban priestess to loving flock
of orderly children and lawn-worshipping husband.

WD’s perky pink bullets of diet tips
slay me, but not my inner elegant lady

because she never existed.  Ma
femme intérieure a faim et grand.

I mean, she’s fucking huge, kids.
And she’s not just the one, dear.

Sometimes, she’s Cass, idly slothing through
slick chick magazines whose airbrushed ideals

are science fictional commercials, but the weight
of failed femininity grinds her deep into seat

‘til there’s nothing left of her will but the drive
for endorphic reward, shoveling Twinkies sugar high.

            Fried thing, I think I love you.
            You make everything greasy.

But then Bertha busts on through, 400 pounds
of muscled heterosex rampaging Valkyrie dyke

sergeant-shouting about damnation of consumption,
swinging thick elbows and hairy roller derby knees

not at the patriarchypricks do as pricks are – but
at the bowtied notion you need more than a cunt,

that a girlish mammal must wax bare as a frog princess,
buy devilish Prada, kiss double-digit lipstick to become

what you always were.  That crazy meat-craving Bertha
is so fucking unfashionable.  Sheesh.  Nobody wants

to give her a conjugal visit.  Keep the bitch in solitary
even if she won’t quit howling in the starving dark.


Gi*gan"tic (?), a. [L. gigas, -antis, giant. See Giant.]


Of extraordinary size; like a giant.


Such as a giant might use, make, or cause; immense; tremendous; extraordinarly; as, gigantic deeds; gigantic wickedness.


When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Strom wind of the equinox. Longfellow.


© Webster 1913.

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