When I was little, I was fat.
I got older. I was still fat.
Now, a young adult, I’m fat.
When my second grade class would get ice cream in the park, they’d say
“You don’t need that, you’ve had enough.”
“Give that to me.”
And I would stand up on the table
And, at the top of my lungs, I’d scream;
“I’m obese! I’m your future! I am the American Dream!
In between candy and Freedom fries, a Ben & Jerry’s pint 
Topped with toffee and strawberry syrup
Does the trick for me.
When I need a wakeup call, I grab a large coffee from 7-11,
Oh, Thank Heaven!
When I think I’m hungry, I’m thinkin’ Arby’s.
When I eat, I’m Wendy.
I am hooked on all-American food.
And when I finally kick the bucket
The culprit will be Colonel Sanders.
Look at me.
Look at me.
Fix this image in your mind, for
Just as you look up at me now
You will look at me later as
The image of your nation.
Because as your empire grows, the food stockpiles increase billions at a time. 
KNOW THIS!”
and I would gesture to myself
“Look at me.
I am the shape of your future 
My bloated gut, my flabby arms
My beefy hands are the hands that
Will sculpt the nation in my own 
Image.
I’m wearing the crown now
The crown I took from the Burger King.
That’s right.
Where is your God now? Where?
He’s too busy polishing your Golden Arches to realize
That you’ve become a minority and that he,
Yes, God Himself, has gotten replaced
With me.”
Because I, before all else, am fat.