National Poetry Month, Day 6

forgive my cruelty


watching fat
people lose weight.

they take them out
on a party bus
to a fancy restaurant
and feed them
“temptation foods.”

some of the fatties
fall for it and dig in
and I just want to
jump up and say

“Eat Fatty! Eat.”

no matter what,
the fatty weigh-in
never disappoints,
watching that fucking
scale start spewing out
red digital numbers
like its the time circuits
in the DeLorean

and then oh wait this is the best part because they’re about to get to fucking commercial break so they gotta make the cuts quicker and show out-of-context facial expressions on the different couples so you really don’t know if the news is good or bad until you get back from commercial and you know you’re waiting through that fucking break. You’ve come this far, for god’s sakes.

and what’s more confusing is your realization that the person you the most is the one you want to see at least make it to the top 2, like you want to see them stay on the show just so you have someone to hate and while that realization is an upsetting one the next is worse when it clicks that you’ve now watched this show enough to even develop opinions but





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