The chair pressed my sides,
Its arms drilling into me saying,
you shouldn’t be here.
when unemcubered with slothfull mass,
sits only the usual and the sane,
not freaks of flesh.
I screw myself out of the esplanade seat,
where all sat drinking and eating guiltlessly,
and I thought:
I do not belong here,
I’m too fat and self-obsessed to exist between sundecks and sunscreens.
Summer, sunlight and sunshine all ask to for their lithe and golden sons,
Not the trudging obese.
I should be ashamed,
…and I was.
I waddle away,
my ass a pendulum
ticking away my escape from this sun dappled scene.
As I depart a warm breeze shoots through the street,
a tepid rush of air raises the leaves, rustles the branches and washes over me.
The wind touches my neck and shoulders,
blowing softly through my shirt,
and embracing me like a playful lover.
I feel myself standing to attention,
and walking a little straighter …
a little prouder.