There exists within his form
formlessness;
Within his heart,
all he could consume
with two, fat hands.
He was his own insecurity;
an oaf of oats,
a chief of beef.

He wondered about being skinny,
and countless times he resolved to be thin.
He was not considered "fat,"
but to all he saw and
to those he compared,
he was walking obesity.

He liked to listen to blues songs.
He enjoyed hearing husky voices,
moaned from husky bodies.
He himself moaned the words of pain
and found solace in their numbness.

His world was insecurity.
"Fat boy, fat boy"
He lived in it, peaceably but not in peace.
He yearned for love,
which may be blind but still has standards.

"Fat boy, fat boy.
Thinking he'll be slim."

There is a dream within him,
a dream for tomorrow,
when obesity sheds to muscle,
pain to pride.
But when the sun rises and that day comes,
he fearfully does not know.