I guess we fat
fellows can use the B, C, D
and T words like how
black people use the N word.
So, broad in the beam,
chubby, dumpy, tubby,
what’s for dinner?
I was thinking we’ll have
pork shoulder. You know
the one they serve in that
fancy place, I forget the name.
Yes, yes, the mushy stuff
with lots of fat and grease.
Man, we look like bears,
but it’s okay. What about
diabetes and cholesterol,
you say? Bah, who cares?
I’m beyond caring these days.
I’ve embraced lard-arsedness,
to eat or not to eat,
that is the question,
it is better to have eaten and gained
than to have not eaten at all,
if I should eat, think
only this of me,
ham, ham, everywhere, not
a morsel of beef,
seasons of turkeys and
everything else,
I sat lonely like an
untouched dumpling.
I could go on. Wait, you
don’t want pork shoulder?
What do you want then?
You’re dieting?
*Spits out coke*
*Chokes*
*Wheezes*
But what about that European
sauce they serve with it?
I thought you loved that!
Sheesh, I guess I’ll eat the
pork shoulder alone then.
This poem is for entertainment only. I’m not fat shaming anybody. I’m fat myself and really want to reduce weight. My conversations in real life inspired a lot of this. It’s silly, but maybe I’ll read it again later, and decide to take this whole weight loss thing seriously.
Ordinary Person 
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