You Are What You Eat

On my way to the library a little while ago, I heard the ice cream van screaming The Entertainer over and over again.  (It's only 50 degrees F, and the north wind is blowing like all get out, but it's spring on the calendar, so why not sell ice cream alongside the road?)  Okay, it's a nice song, but why not add a little variety?  How about the Theme from The Pink Panther?  Or considering the obesity problem with children nowadays, maybe another Henry Mancini tune:  "Baby Elephant Walk"?



Since I'm already being snarky and talking about ice cream and fat people, I think it's time for me to inflict a bit of my poetry on the world.  I wrote this back in college (copyright 5/10/93, Cap'n Chlorophyll).

"Fat Girl"

Next to me in the movies,
Ice cream dripping from your double
Chin, the chair complaining about your
Obesity.  I want to switch seats, but,
Like the greasy popcorn you inhale,
Escape is impossible.

As you can guess, I didn't like this girl.  (If you look closely, the first letter in each line spells out her name.)