© Leonie Parker
Winner 2013, Oracles of the Bush – Humorous Section, Tenterfield, NSW.
There’s a skinny girl inside me who’s been trying to get out.
I can shut her up with chocolate when she really starts to shout
but she has this really whiney voice, says if she had control
this body would be beautiful. She’ll whinge and she’ll cajole.
She reckons it’s not fair on her, the way I stuff my face.
She says my dieting regimen is simply a disgrace.
But it’s not me who’s thwarting her; I try to tell her so.
There’s a fat girl in here also and she likes to have a go.
I kinda like the fat girl ‘cause she likes the things I do,
chocolate cake and donuts and an ice cream cone or two.
The skinny girl is boring all she ever wants to eat
is lettuce leaves and lentils, but she drinks her whisky neat.
She reckons it’s the fizzy mixers that add all the weight
and the fat girl likes her alcho pops; with that I can relate
because I too like the bubbles and the tangy taste of lime.
The skinny girl says “Give it up; you’re running out of time.”
And while we’re talking running, well, the skinny girl’s obsessed.
She keeps pushing to go faster though she knows I do my best.
But at least she knows I’m trying, makes her happy for a bit.
But the fat girl isn’t happy, she’s about to chuck a fit.
The fat girl’s pretty placid but sometimes when she gets mad
she can almost make me wish the other one was all I had,
because after I’ve been running with the skinny girl all day
then the fat girl gets all huffy and she really makes me pay.
Every muscle’s aching but the fat girl doesn’t care
she just tells me it’s my own fault like she’s really unaware
why I’m hurting like the devil when I know that she’s the cause
but at least I have the skinny girl who’s quick with the applause.
She says she knows what’s best for me and that I should take heed.
I’m not getting any younger (to that point I have to cede)
but the fat girl whispers to me and she tells me it’s ok,
that I’m happy just the way I am, don’t matter what I weigh.
I am feeling quite conflicted I don’t know which one to trust.
If I throw out either one of them I’ll have to re-adjust.
At the moment I’m too weary so the choice will have to wait.
For tonight I’ll leave them bickering, stay out of their debate.
I’m lazing with the TV on. I’ve chippies and some beer
so for now the fat girl’s winning, I can hear her softly cheer,
but tomorrow at the beach (because that’s where we’re gonna go)
the skinny girl will get the chance to say “I told you so”.