Splat
by
r. muir

To him they came:

fugitives from a fat farm,

the nutri-system washouts,

Tub


Blimp

 


whose line of sight to toes had been obscenely interrupted,
whose shapes resembled pulchritudinous
  gobs...                   blobs...                  lumps...                    

                      and 
burls  

     
whose chins were
multiple

bosoms
mammoth

bellies
bursting at the seams

      
whose
buttocks
mushroomed into massive, cleaved colossi.

buttocks

      
all in search of being cured:

severely shrunk

barbells animation.gif (95057 bytes)

radically reduced

monstrosities animation.gif (396058 bytes)

decisively diminished.

Collossi 

 "Help us, PLEASE!"

They called him "Doctor"
(he was not)
They called him "Maestro"
(hardly)
"Savior."
He had trimmed his roly-poly share,
this "Reconstructive Sculptor;"
those obliged were strictly heavyweights,
ONLY JUMBOS NEED APPLY,
who hinged their hopes on him whose ad read:

MICHAELANGELO AWAITS YOU
.....SHED OBESITY.....
LET AN ARTIST RECREATE YOUR FIGURE!

MICHELANGELO AWAITS YOU.....SHED OBESITY.....LET AN ARTIST RECREATE YOUR FIGURE!

"Fraud!"
Who else would offer so preposterous a pipe dream?

Cecil Trump

And who would hasten to accept it?

Donna Bledsoe

 

Episode One

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