the chevy in front of us orders chicken for six
mashed potatoes gravy on the side
i turn to my husband whisper melodramatically
we could have had a family too
and wonder what percent i am joking
what percent i want to order some small human a taco
i don’t actually understand the rules
but i know if the ref counts three then it’s done
whenever a wrestler climbs the ropes
i picture the rehearsal leap bodies flung and caught
during intermission a man holds his baby like a trophy
while a woman takes their photo at the ring
i am not the fattest person in the room
unremarkable as an exhale a bear mask
or a gold top hat the widest men you’ve ever seen
crash through a door propped up on folding chairs
this is the finale and i have questions such as
what would my wrestling persona be? and
are there leagues for disabled people?
at 35 i have almost decided i will be happy
by staying happy i have almost decided the sound
of a body percussing the mat would be enough
Catherine Weiss is a poet and artist from Maine. Their poetry has been published in Tinderbox, Up the Staircase, Fugue, perhappened, Birdcoat, Bodega, Counterclock, petrichor, HAD, and Flypaper Lit. Catherine is the artist behind the collaborative poetry chapbook/card deck I WISH I WASN’T ROYALTY (Game Over Books, 2020). They are also the author of chapbook-length poem, FERVOR (Ginger Bug Press, 2021) and full-length poetry collection, WOLF GIRLS VS. HORSE GIRLS (Game Over Books, 2021). More at catherineweiss.com.
Taco Bell Quarterly 