Monday, 27 September 2010

Ode To A Detox On Returning From St Ives: poem

RIGHT!!! Self-imposed boot-camp for me. Cutting out or down on salt, sugar, no alcohol (except for Dunkerton's cider on special occasions), no preserved meat full of nitrates, and less meat, anyway. Less wheat bread and pasta. More fruit including berries and grapefruit, salad, veg. Drink lots of water and green tea.

And this is why. Like my diet, it's a work in progress (or regress).

Ode To A Detox On Returning From St Ives

I thought I'd grow old like Lauren Bacall
Elegant, willowy, tall
Tight arse, tons of class
An enigma on a pedestal

Once slender and tasty
In a thin thong and pasties
The pasties are now Cornish pasties
And I can't thing the thame thong without crying.
My legendary six-pack is now a six-pack of cider
My overactive mandibles leave love handles
The size of trees
I love my food
But my food hates me
Treacherous, it deposits clues
In my jelly belly
(it's a jelly belly, it's a jelly belly, it's a jelly belly, it's a jelly belly)
I tried sleeping with the fishes
Even they didn't fancy me
They flashed their fins and went upscale
And threw me out of the sea

A whale washed up,
A chubby angel after the Fall,
I roll across the land, a shapeless fog,
Devouring all in an epic trawl
I wish the fog was a pea-souper
Cause I could scoff that an' all
Scarf the lot like a hog.
Nom, nom, nom.
No! This lardy bard should recall
Lauren Bacall was no butterball

Fat threatens to settle in folds
The make-up thickens
Like clotting cream,
Like two inches of plasticene
Like fossil strata from the palioscene
My bags are now luggage
My breasts are baggage
In body angst overdrive
My reflection is savage
I will rivet closed my gaping maws
My beak snaps shut
My greedy paws
Gathering greenery
My jaws chewing up the scenery
Filling the hole inside me
Coz I recognise the metaphors
Grimly I scan the vision before me
And understand why no-one adores me
I do not enthrall like Lauren Bacall
Tons of flaws, open pores
I'm growing old like Diana Dors

Anna Chen — September 2010

Live performance from Anna here


Nevin said...

no alcohol!!!! no way!!!!

I need my red wine on the weekends to unwind... Otherwise how will I coupe with the whole week? :):)

Good luck with it....

Anonymous said... could become a vegetarian... ;)

I love the poem, love it, love it!!

Gwei Mui said...

Oh gosh I know the feeling...
As the years have rolled on so have the love handles lol! I'm now pretty good when it comes to eating but no matter what I do my telly-tubbyesque belly refuses to shift!

Madam Miaow said...

Not sure about being a full-time veggie, Harpy, but I definitely need to cut out the fatty roasts and fry-ups. I'm quite enjoying dal and tofu.

BTW, after five days I'm seeing a difference already.

Nevin, I am often a Cava queen at weekends but that has to go for now.

Gwei Mui, I'm still hoping to get a six-pack again. I know it's under there somewhere ...

Ed Ward said...

So does this mean the food blog lives again?

Madam Miaow said...

Oh dear. Should get something up there. How are things, Ed? Hope things start looking up.