Fatso long.

Fatso long!

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 busineses carry,

after breaking six chairs 

at his last job

he was let go

and soon enough 

he 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 living 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.