Fat Eyed Woman (Kissing My Brother)



Advert Image

-K. Shawn Edgar 2014

Fat Eyed Woman (Kissing My Brother)


Espresso, food, cold drinks, and snacks:

Advert signs are the only reading I’ve done in the past 36 hours.

Outside of the flawed “redundancy factor” of shock marketing,

I’ve discovered nothing interesting and crave caramel sweeties.


Have you seen the Day’s Inn across from a Pilot Travel Center?

There’s 73 yards of poorly laid asphalt, seeded with snack wrappers,

standing between ugly hotel room door and an ice-blended coffee taste.

I moonwalk the oil and gas splattered first five feet, breaking the fear.


Mel Brooks’ face is on an air freshener crumpled with a gas receipt,

as I weave around what could be blood spillage or hotdog drippings.

Scenes from Spaceballs play out in my head’s retro humor vault, until

an itchy door chime cues a jazz cover of Blink-182’s First Date.

Singing |“Forever, and ever, let’s make this last forever”|


Inside Pilot, this woman has a dentatus-toothed, chapped-lipped smile;

though, it might be a gateway to dental hell or cavernous conversations

spiked by rusty bear-trap punctuation and echoey subtextual grey mists.

She’s manically bleach-water spraying the sandwich bar countertops;

dirty-rag slopping heavy water droplet rainbows off the synth metal,

as her lovely fat-hampered eyeballs strain to project pure happiness.

Singing |“Is it wrong, if I think it’s lame to dance?”|


I’m pulling the lever, and filling a plastic cup with frosty coffee ooze.

Grizzly bears can’t run downhill,” says Hikers Delight magazine.

Only its new, glossy cover is splattered by blood or hotdog drippings,

as a starling-chested man leafs through Astronauts and Artichokes

the very issue my mailman said was “lost” in transit last month—

and chomping a foot-long with its ketchup river like the Nile flowing.

Singing |“Let’s go, don’t wait. This night’s almost over”|


The redundancy factor leads me through the ALL CAPS cardboard towers,

to checkout change pile of wadded cash bills and plastic bags exchange.

I flirt-smile with the fat-eyed woman who’s rag-ringing popcorn chunks off

heat lamps and shinny doughnut trays.


Blink’s music video for First Date starts with a story about kissing one’s brother. 

Singing |“Forever, and ever, let’s make this last forever”|





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