The Shape of Things to Come

These words are those I love to hear:
"I see you've lost some weight, My Dear."
These are the words I've come to hate:
"I see that you've put on some weight."

I dislike folk who get quite fresh
And talk about excessive flesh.
I won't go near a bathroom scale
The moving numbers tell a tale
Of not-so-subtle added pounds,
Advancing flesh, unsightly mounds,
Unsightly bulges round my waist
Reminders of my gourmet taste
For cakes and pies and fatty sauces
That obstruct those hoped-for losses.

Worst of all are the mirrors
Which confirm my dreaded terrors.
Gadzooks! I can't believe my eyes!
I think I've gained another size.

It might be all the coke I guzzle--
Maybe I should wear a muzzle.
What a challenge! What a hurdle!
I'm looking for my old used girdle.

I hate to start another diet,
But I'm desperate -- I have to try it.
No more pies, cakes or steaks--
I'll starve myself --that's what it takes.
I'll try to live on sticks and stones,
Holes of doughnuts, meatless bones.
I'll walk and run and exercise,
I'll banish all those cakes and pie,
Give up those foods I love so well--
It's my new diet--the one from Hell.

And when I again regain my shape
Everyone will stare and gape;
Congratulations will pour in
Because at last, I've gotten thin!

Well, now that's settled -- I can't wait,
I think that I will set a date
To give up all my favorite food--
I'll start it when I'm in the mood.

And while I'm thinking when to start
I'll munch on this small apple tart,
I'll polish off that great big steak
And finish up the chocolate cake.
A scoop of ice cream -- what's the harm?
And fresh sweet cream -- straight from the farm.
A glass of coke to wash it down
It can't add more than just a pound.

Oh! Hang it all -- no more lies.
I'll buy clothes in a larger size.


Sylvia Honig
C. August 1999