pants,
fat dresses and shirts,
blouses,
even underwear
stuffed away
in drawers and closets
just for this day.
we get them out
when we can't fit into
our summer clothes
anymore.
the zippers won't go up,
the buttons
won't snap.
we've become Orson Welles,
and Momma Cass
overnight.
we need them,
we need these fat clothes,
with 15 per cent spandex
embedded in the waist,
because it's winter and
we just ate
a giant plate
of lasagna with meatballs
and garlic bread,
followed by two
Duck Donuts
and a carafe
of hot toddies.
and now
because it's like Antarctica
outside
we can't walk anything off.
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