(after Edna St. Vincent Millay)
R-O-L-A-I-D-S won't spell relief - you all have lied
Who told me mints would ease me of my pain!
I pine for pork chops as I chomp chow mein;
I crave corned beef with cabbage on the side.
I cannot give up Pepsi (though I've tried),
I've poured my cappuccino down the drain;
And last night's Pinot Grigio must remain
Untouched forever, like a jilted bride.
There are a hundred bistros where I yearn
To go, that tempt with an unhappy meal;
And entering with chagrin some small café
Where "lean" is on the menu of the day,
I say, "At least my fragile heart won't burn!"
And so sit down to toast and chamomile.