When I got to the beach pool the other morning and took my shirt off to expose my pasty, white skin to the sun for the first time in months, I felt very exposed and self-conscious. Regardless of how good of shape you’re in, your semi-naked body feels twice as big and your swimsuit twice as small. Maybe this is what everyone was thinking?:

 

What’s that thing?
Out in the sand.
That’s not a fin,
It’s got a hand.

It’s too large,
To be just bait.
I hope that chair,
Can hold it’s weight.

It’s not moving,
It’s turning red.
I just pray,
It isn’t dead.

Even though,
It’s got no tail.
It looks to me,
Like a pale whale.

Though as big as one,
Something’s not right.
It’s not Moby Dick,
His skin is too white.

Think the tide,
Brought it in?
It also has hair,
And a double-chin.

It should be buried,
Before it starts to stink.
No wait, I think,
I saw it blink.

Not a pretty sight,
Hard to ignore.
It’s rolling over,
And starting to snore.

Endangered species?
Let’s all hope so.
Physically unfit,
And in a Speedo.

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