When I Was Thin, I Had No

Beneath Every History, Another History.

When I Was Thin, I Had No Notion Of What Being Fat Is Like. When I Worked In A Department Store, I Had Sold Clothes To Women Of Most Sizes, So I Should Have Known; But Perhaps You Have To Experience The State From The Inside, To Understand What Fat Is Like.

A Sea-green Sky: Lamps Blossoming White. This Is Marginal Land: Fields Of Strung Wire, Of Treadless Tyres In Ditches, Fridges Dead On Their Backs, And Starving Ponies Cropping The Mud. It Is A Landscape Running With Outcasts And Escapees, With Afghans, Turks And Kurds: With Scapegoats, Scarred With Bottle And Burn Marks, Limping From The Cities With Broken Ribs. The Life Forms Here Are Rejects, Or Anomalies: The Cats Tipped From Speeding Cars, And The Heathrow Sheep, Their Fleece Clotted With The Stench Of Aviation Fuel.

Memory Isn't A Theme; It's Part Of The Human Condition.

You're Only Young Once, They Say, But Doesn't It Go On For A Long Time? More Years Than You Can Bear.