He went to Overeaters Anonymous
but the door was to small for him to get through,
the members inside tried to comfort him
and assauge his embarrassment,
but there was a krispy cremey donut shop,
just three doors down,
so he had three dozen glazed,
and a half a gallon of coffee,
then waddled home.
He got so big he couldn't work anymore,
he ran out of breath too much,
and had to sit down at strange times,
which required stronger chairs
than most businesses carry,
after breaking six chairs at his last job
he was let go, and soon enough
couldn't make the rent on his
first floor walkup and wound up evicted.
After seven months on the street
full of dumpster diving, and begging handouts,
he was reduced to a mere 167 pounds,
being rather handsome beneath all that blubber
he was offered a job by a photographer
and wound up modeling slim lines clothing.
sumptiously paid, and in a penthouse,
he controlled his urges to pig out.
last I heard he was the grand marshall
of the Macy's day parade,
and all the things that were humongous,
wideloads, and overblown spectacles to all,
were left floating far behind him.
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