Sad wet

Eating depressing desserts

Complex carbohydrate clouds

Plenty of big fat tears

Plump tears rolling down a plump cheek absorbing into a plump pillow

"what a sad wet sack"

And I'm falling into a pool of water wrapped in a white cotton sheet

The bleachers are filled with thin mean olive complected people with their sandy brown hair and thin knobby fingers..

They make appalling faces as the sheet becomes soaked and molds to my mounds of heavy flesh seconds before I submerge completely into the water, an irregular globular form caste against the rigid primary colored racing lanes tiled upon the bottom of the pool...

Rigid lanes for thin rigid people to prove themselves within. Who makes it to one end first but now none of that matters..not in this moment because they all came to see the show, and now they are cleanly dressed in pastel colors, smelling of detergent and department store..

Because the fat woman is drowning, if only she could have fit in the lines, they thought, raced behind us in the lines until all the sad fat melted away, maybe she would be sitting here with us, not making a spectacle of herself..  But then, what would they read then?  What would they read then?