Obese Man Poem by George Hunter

Obese Man



So many thousand 'love' poems
It's getting to be a bore
So here's what I call a 'fat' poem
To help even up the score.
Google can add an ad or two
And then we can get back to
'I'm gonna die for lovin' you.'

Fat poem starting:

I saw him coming down the hall
A monstrous man and very tall.
His head scraped the ceiling, and what is more,
His legs reached way down to the floor.
With a body so big he got stuck in the door.
Maybe trapped there forevermore.
What a sight, he looked afright,
Couldn't move even left or right
I told him I would cogitate
Maybe we could amputate.
He paled and said, 'Don't even think,
I'll just stay here until I shrink.'
So we put him on a diet of pease and punk
Then all sat around just getting drunk
And, now and then, taking a toke
And thinking it all a big fat joke.
After a few days of having a fit,
He started to loosen up a bit.
Finally shrunk enough to get though the door
But he was mad and very sore.
If he hadn't been so doggone weak
On us some havoc he would wreak.
He vowed on a stack of pancakes
To get in a similar situation nevermore
But in the future take time to measure the door.
For he felt it was his bounden duty
To keep the fat upon his booty
For being obese is a thing of beauty.

(Who says?)

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