My Big Break

She glances brusquely

through my portfolio

says I photograph beautifully

leans close,

looks into my eyes

and calls me FAT.

Sure, she sugarcoats it,

explains how THIN models need to be.

Blames those TEN camera pounds.

Says to lose, say, TWENTY and

gives me her phone number.

My heart beats in my red face

as I nod with enthusiasm.

Of course you are right,

what was I thinking,

sorry for wasting your time.

This prick stings worse

than being propositioned.

I grab my gullible Look Book

and flee.