Skip to Content

And the Word Was God

By Savannah Sipple

In the beginning was the word and the word was FAT
in the beginning I was fat          in the beginning I was lean &
long carried two weeks past due & wore preemie clothes & then I
chunked up      baby fat             a fat baby          baby I grew big
grew big boned                           grew six inches taller than the other
little girls         grew hips & thighs & breasts before my time
in percentile on all the doctors’ charts             I grew    I knew
I was too large                              too loud too mouthy for boys
I knew even then I loved girls                 I knew I knew I knew
by how loud the boys said no           I wanted them to say no
            I wanted them to say
yes                    I wanted to feel like I could stop
burying myself in my body     my body grew large
my body grew larger       a walk-in closet       I stood on the inside
hiding behind dresses               on the outside             Bible verses
& Jesus             men who made sure I heard them tell me
my body was not my own       my mind was not my own
but it was it was it was             so I started to drag myself out
I kicked that door         open                  I kicked it down
haven’t looked back look         don’t look back              don’t look
back at the beginning               in the beginning was that word
             and that word was God                           the word is not God
I am God          I am that word                            I am God’s
word                  I am still                           fat

 


 

 

Listen as Savannah Sipple reads "And the Word Was God."

Added: Monday, April 29, 2019  /  From "WWJD and Other Poems," (Sibling Rivalry Press, 2019). Used with permission. Photo by Rebecca Dayle Ashby.
Savannah Sipple
Photo by Rebecca Dayle Ashby.

Savannah Sipple is the author of WWJD and Other Poems (Sibling Rivalry Press, 2019), a poetry collection that explores what it is to be a queer woman in Appalachia. With a beer-drinking Jesus as her wing-man, she navigates this difficult terrain of stereotype, conservative Evangelicalism, and, perhaps most, shame. Her writing can be found in Southern Cultures, Salon, Appalachian Heritage, Waxwing, and The Offing. She is the recipient of grants from the Money for Women/Barbara Deming Memorial Fund and the Kentucky Foundation for Women. Please visit her website.

Other poems by this author