as a snowball rolling down
the mountain. Every man had
a hand in its making. Every man
packed more on till it grew large

as a boulder. It barely moves from
its weight. Once this snowball was a little
meatball on my plate. And every man
the tomato sauce till I was lost in

indigestion. I was tossed as the linguine
in a polka-dot bikini. I stuffed my face into
every man's line as spaghetti wrapped
around a fork, so entwined and cut short.