Ode to My Big Fat Legs

When it comes to my legs,
I have two choices: big or fat.
That's fat with an ef. If I
get down under a hundred
pounds (and I've done this multiple
times), I can almost nearly
zip up those Nancy Sinatra
boots made for walking boots.
(I hate them. I hate them.)
And yet,

my legs are never cold --
not in dark freezing restaurants,
over-air conditioned stores,
or running around in the snow. Not that
I would run in the snow. Well, I would,
but that's beside the point.
My legs have never felt the shivering
numb cold my hands face chest feet
know. And one more thing.
When that guy? Came in my dorm
room? Got on top? I hooked
these legs under his hips

and tossed him across the room.
Thanks to my big fat legs. And I do
mean big          fat          strong          legs.

Copyright Louise Robertson