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Fat Jim

Just to reassure anyone out there who might get the wrong idea about this poem: Fat Jim is a real character. The imagery in this poem is true to life. Fat Jim never harmed me or any other person.

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Fat Jim

Fat Jim lives at number 22, Britannia Road.
All he’s ever wanted is to shoot his load.
He has an obsession with toys,
And an obsession with little boys.
And once upon a time I visited his bachelor abode.

I remember he had a labyrinth of train-sets,
R.N.L.I paraphernalia, and pairs of fishnets.
I would sit on his knee,
And sometimes he’d smile at me;
Though thankfully there were never any ‘regrets’.

Fat Jim would let me ride on his chopper;
And treat me to fudge and Gob-stoppers.
The chopper was a bike!
And the Fudge I liked.
And his Gob-stoppers were throat-choking whoppers!

Jim was an ex-sapper who owned millions of fairy lights.
He’d turn them on for me, then prance round in his tights.
Then we’d dance,
and he’d wink me a glance.
I often felt strange when I left his house each night.

On Christmas Day he’d dress me up as his gnome:
He was Santa Claus, and would style his beard with a comb.
We would visit sick children,
And give them presents he’d built them.
And as soon as we were done, I could never wait to get home.

I’m a grown-up now, and Jim is too.
He can no longer play with kids; he has problems visiting the loo.
We spoke about romance,
and as we spoke he wet his pants.
It seemed impossible then to tell him the truth:
Fat Jim, I love you!


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