The Diet Song of J. Anna Prufroski
Let us jog then you and I
While the morning is spread against the sky
Like a strawberry Slimfast spilt across a table
Let us run through certain half-deserted streets
While our feets
Lead us to a restless 7-11 and a pint
Of Ben and Jerry's Rocky Road
That leads us to an overwhelming pant size.
Oh, do not ask "what is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women join the function,
Talking of liposuction
The yellow M that rubs its back upon the window panes
The yellow fries that seep their scent through the window panes
Licked my tongue to the corner of my mouth
Grabbed my car keys, made a sudden leap
And seeing that it was a soft October meal-time
Circled once around the drive thru and had to eat.
There will be time
For the French-fried smoke that slides along the street
There will be time, there will be time
To lift the burger from the plate
While eating at McKee Dee's
In the room the women join the function,
Talking of liposuction
In a minute there is time
For diets and workouts that a burger will reverse
For I have known the diets already, known them all
I have fasted evenings, mornings and afternoons
I have measured out my meals in coffee spoons
So where do I begin again
And how do I presume?
During the afternoon I sleep so peacefully
Smoothed by lady fingers
Too tired to work out, I malinger
Stretched here on the floor beside the McKee Dee's
Should I after burgers, fries and icing
Have the strength to force my diet to a crisis?
Though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed
Though I have seen my waistline grow slightly fatter
I am no waif and this is no great matter
I have seen the moment of my willpower flicker
And I have eaten a whole bag of frozen snickers
And in short, it was great
And would it have been worth it after all?
After the jogs, the shakes, the "Thank-You Thigh Masters"
Among the other various diet disasters
Would it have been worth while
To have pushed the cheesecake away with a smile
To say, "I have lost thirty pounds
And I've come to tell you all. I shall tell you all!"
If one looking me up and down
Should say, "She's not thin at all
That's not thin at all?"
No. I am not a waif, nor was meant to be
But I've tried, Lord and I think I'll do
To drop a pound or swell a few
But give me a break; I'm only five-two
I have seen the models stretched out in magazines
I do not think that they look like me
I have heard them laughing past the sea
With hair dyed blonde and skin tanned brown
But I am more buoyant, and will not drown
Sent as a joke to Pen Pushers Publications under the pen name Maura Gonne, this poem is a parody of T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock".
