My Fat Duchess
(Zurich)
So you're telling everybody that
you did me in and you never mention fat?
That portrait rendered by Fra Pandolph's hands
is all they know. I end with "There she stands."
Good show! Keep it up. I've lost some forty pounds
on lettuce and yak milk. Not as bad as it sounds.
It's such a shame the surgeon couldn't restore
that faint half flush. If it's money, there's plenty more.
Sweet, some things even a Swiss spa can't do.
I weigh four hundred pounds. I'm two of you.
I say you scorned my nine hundred years old name.
You should see their look of shock. The crime! The shame!
Don't gush it up too much. And must you imply
I was sweet up front and naughty on the sly?
I tell them you rode a mule about the place!
Rich. You on a mule! Can't keep a straight face.
So we'll keep the front up till I lose
the weight. And you're still shucking off the booze?
Of course, my pasta-plated chicadee--
although the count's munificence towards me
is tempting. The dear man is made of gold!
See you in June. Think slim. You are getting old.
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