Saturday, 18 April 2015

No Breakfast at Tiffany's

Sipping a flavoured water
Not far from Tiffany's
Watching her father-in-law's
Full fat latte
Creating a moustache
On his five o' clock shadow
Even though it was 4pm
She straightened her back
Her somewhat Hepburn hairdo
A half redheaded beehive
Making her appear taller
Black jeans to look slim
White chemise top
With black spots
A la Audrey Hepburn
Playing Capote's Holly
A starring role
In her own life
Fictional characters
But with real food
Cakes all round
But a morsel doesn't touch her lips
She hugs her flavoured water in her hands
Her hollow cheeks and upright carriage
Elongating her face and body
They chat about exercise
Her skinny jeans just aren't skinny enough
There is not enough room
Between her and their skin-tight
Contours that make them more
Like pants or slacks
So she twists the body
To show it to its advantage
Be careful of foreshortening
Use distraction techniques
Two bracelets on her right hand
Almost take the attention away
From her bony wrists
If the pearls did not remind us
Of a carcass picked clean
And bones shiny with wear
She constantly fidgets
Wishing she could be burning calories
And calms herself
And pulls her top down to settle
Does it riding up mean
She is putting on weight?
She distracts herself
Applies lip balm
Careful not to have to
Include it in
Her calorie count.
At least its flavoured water now
She thinks of her progress
It used be plain
In-laws were watchful
She'd have to be
On best behaviour
And secretly purge
Her wicked ways
Careful not to
Mess up her
Pretty, patent pumps
With bows
Like the one she wore
On the black round neck
Slightly off centre to the left
Her left
Even that weighed on her
Made her feel off-balance
Lacking in symmetry
And she knew stress
Could cause water retention
And water retention stress
And then the whirl pool
Spiral
Never ending
Down fall
Into collapsing
Under her own weight
The weight of the world on her
Worries weighing heavily
Weighty issues
Everything was too big
And too much
And controlling excesses
Became a minute by minute
By milligram by milligram
By millimetre by millimetre agenda
And they all know the day
Will come
For an intervention
She drops
The empty bottle
On the table
In case they haven't noticed
She has finished
The whole bottle
Not kept any for later
Or pretended to drink
As they said she usually did
She twists the ring on her finger
Her wedding ring
That will fall off one day
When her fingers
Are small enough
And she leans back
Against her fawn coat
Just like Hepburn's
Darling
To keep a hungry girl warm
And Holly goes lightly
With no breakfast at Tiffany's
Just animated
Conversation to
Distract
From the elephant in the room
Half sitting on her coat
For comfort
Her buttocks have no fat
To cushion against
A hard wooden red seat
The colour is immaterial
Although she finds
Wearing certain colours fattening
Nothing flattering
She puts it off
Long enough
And finally
Goes to the toilet
Hoping she hasn't let it go too long
She has her tissues in case
And always a sugar-free breath mint
She is gone.
They wait
Knowing
Hoping not
She comes back
There's too long a queue
She will just have to work it off
They go to leave
She picks up her bag
A golden hold-all
She keeps her life in
When it runs out
With gold accessories and bows
So she can look at something bright
When she lies on the bathroom floor.
And maybe when she faints
People won't just walk on by
Because she is so slight
And as she walks
Large and shiny accessories
Distract and make her look small
In relation
To their bright golden presence
A model size zero
A terrible beauty
Will implode
Like an atom bomb
Or a star
Will reach
Its chandrasekhar limit
Collapse upon itself
Becoming a black hole
And a glimmer of the past
A twinkling that was
And there will be
No breakfast at Tiffany's
However much
The diamonds
In the windows
Reflect her fading light.

Capote, T. (1958) Breakfast At Tiffany's, Random House

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