From One Small Corner Poem by Brandon Adamson

Living in America, or pretty much anywhere,
one inevitably encounters in their daily peregrinations,
some that are so unconscious of the amount
of physical space they take up in the world,
excessively exceeding in their own excess,
but oh so smug in their pontifications
of the excess of others, whom they would gladly get the better of.
Like the family of twelve with their children in line-1,2, …3,
they’ve had a few too many
centers of tootsie roll pops,
the wife, a licentious howler,
the average large rude man,
a blow pop with a blown top,
such is the bloviating blow up doll
a hot air balloon,
that far from being able to go around the world in eighty days,
when in the bathroom, cannot even see it’s own shoes.
metaphorically and figuratively
a blob of a human being
of epic, ectoplasmic proportions
and they are everywhere,
as far and wide as every uncharted grocery aisle.
There is plenty to be had,
but whatever sympathy for such creatures
is often squandered when they begin to feast their eyes
on what’s near and dear to, even you.