Big boneded
It is the work of capitalism And white supremacy That convinces us our bodies are only good if they are lean Light And working
Machines cannot function without the broken backs And torn muscles of able bodies And pillaging of different ones
Ladders cannot be built on soft flesh And hands whose fingers are more adept at caressing and crocheting Cannot be used to fabricate weapons of mass destruction Nor break apart the bones of babies
Systems would crumble, sinking into Your weight And every inch of forbidden cellulite If your body was written into the fabric of society Any differently
Revolution lies in the areas of you Forced to hide
Never acquiesce to the rapacious needs of this hellhole Your bones are stronger in the end