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.