The vest ,in tatters,
wouldn’t fasten
but maybe he could
get the last one.
No, that still,
refused to stay,
his belly,
protruding,
in the way…
He thought of the donuts
that’d passed his lips,
he’d gnashed and gnawed
too many chips.
His father might have mention’d this,
commented on a son’s remiss
…of cardio and lycopene
…of salad toppers and caffeine.
He thought of the ball
he could never catch
now back to donuts
and sweet, caloric snacks.
…Damn the vest
why won’t it button?
One more inch
Just try and suck in…
Damn the crowd
that will, arrogant, show
to peep inside
the box, then go
and shed sham droplets
for just a bit
before discussing
his unkempt outfit.
Why did they all have to come
just to stare at him so numb
with vest still torn quite most apart
but not so much as his lost heart.