A fat nominee could be exactly what a Republican Party needs to shed its image as out of touch with ordinary Americans. — Daniel Allott in Politico
If you’re sick of hearing that you ought to eat more kale
And broccoli and tofu and fresh fruit
If you hate your boss’s kid because he went to Yale
And Obama ‘cause he’s shaped just like a flute
And if you think that jogging is depravity
And if your nickname is the Big Galoot
Choose the guy pulled hardest by Earth’s gravity
Who never could be called an empty suit.
If you’ve got some padding on your tushie
And if you feel resentful of the svelte
Cast a vote for someone crude and pushy
Whose necktie stops three inches from his belt
In another Sandy or Katrina
He’s the one who wouldn’t bend or sway
A President built like a ballerina
Would end up floating out in Sheepshead Bay
The middle class is in a pinch
Their belts have started tightening.
Measured by the pound and inch,
The candidates are frightening.
So each ascends the platform and he parrots
The gospel of austerity and hurt.
They want to make you eat your peas and carrots.
Cast a vote for seconds on dessert.