Thumpers with drooping derrieres
hanging pendulums for chests that
go whip-whap when they jiggle
along with chubby little brats
(the apples stay close)
at Walmart, yank undies out of
huge cracks riding high--

--I see, said a visitor from Kenya,
--what it means to be
an American --(combining sight
with thought into conclusion)

50 pounds from McDonald's add
Giant Eagle whose pudgy wings
strokes Piggly Wiggly to climax.
Glibly following the latest diets; 
of low fat, high protein, processed vegan 
expensive laboratory-concocted junk 
to gorge upon,

good carbs, bad carbs,
dubbing bacon and eggs a coronary 
on a plate while the wiseacres
down a Starbucks muffin with Macchiato
soybean latte
a green smoothie for a chaser 

then because of mixed messages
from the scientific "experts,"
throwing in the towel
saying "f*k it." swimming
in oceans of sucralose pop 

to drown us as we count 
calories becoming lumps
of happy fat to carry
as American as
apple pie