We pity the fat,
Grotesque,
Misshapen,
With potted skin
And cauliflower ear,
Collie dog noses,
And teeth that are missing,
Faces reddened by beer.

But will those on bottom
Be on the top
When the world turns upside down?
And will the lessons that meekened them now
Level the playing field?

And those who are last,
Will they be first?
Will the wise grieve over
The living
Or the dead
Or the misshapen?
And where will the last laugh come from?

-jenn