Alternate Universe In Which I Eat the Rubber-Rubber Fruit

after One Piece

Today I
choke at
the throat
with dreams of the
fantastic elastic kind.
I’m practicing for a world in which
I hold the mechanisms required to make
me stay. I mean, if my hunger could stretch
itself around the world, I would never miss brunch.
Sucking the bones clean, I’d dare anyone to say, too much,
leave some for the rest of us, you rubber-headed idiot. Can’t I be
that prolific? Built to baffle, immune to cannonballs, combat,
electromagnetic shock? Apparatus powered by the primal desire
to consume the season’s sweetest pear. Limbs spiralling infinities—
and still room for dessert. No guru would ever dare say, raise
your vibrations!! the universe is waiting to meet you!!! I flood
my mouth with hot starch, coconut meat, open seas; all of life’s
delicious things. I eat until I am a brand new planet. Spinning.
Let me lap up the juice. Let no fauna or flora escape this mouth.
Allow me gulps of debris, micro-plastics, yesterday’s old heart-
break, belch strong enough to uproot factories and untangle
the vein of trauma connecting you and me. See how a bite
can transform us? Look; this time I promise I’ll hold us
together, be soft yet durable. O cursed devil fruit;
my beginning and end: I want to be
touched by something
and be changed.

Andy Lopez is a writer and advocacy communications manager from the Philippines. Her work has been anthologized in the Best of Small Fictions 2021 and can be found in Longleaf Review, CHEAP POP, Non.Plus Lit, Underblong, and elsewhere. Find her on Twitter at @andylopezwrites.