Supersize me

In Competition No. 2782 you were invited to submit a poem in praise of fatness. Thanks to John Whitworth for this magnificent and timely topic. What better, at this self-flagellatory time of year, than a celebration of the consequences of festive excesses?

My heart went out to Basil Ransome-Davies, who bemoans the metamorphosis of Sophie Dahl from plushly plump to fashionably slender:

But farewell to the Rubens plumpness Sophie used to flaunt,
For fashion’s sake now traded for the skeletally gaunt.

And I enjoyed Charles Curran’s entry, which finishes with this rousing couplet:

Three cheers for every man with XL trousers!
We’ll never join the calorie-counting grousers!

The prizewinners below take £25 each. D.A Prince scoops the extra fiver

Gaunt winter spareness starves our sight:
Bleak scrawny trees, bark black as night.
So draw the curtains, lock the door,
And contemplate what Rubens saw.
 
He relished flesh. You’d warm your hands
At nakedness he understands:
That rich abundance, ample grace
In hips, thighs, buttocks, breasts and face,
While dimpled creases, rolls of pink,
Enlarge us more than we might think.
 
Quick throb of blood, soft gleam of skin,
Make tangible the joy within —
The richer life, the heart that sings,
Of carnal, satisfying things,
So boldly making manifest
That weighty bodies are the best.
D.A. Prince

 
‘Give me the fat!’ cried Mrs Sprat,
‘For that’s where all the taste is;
Bring streaky bacon, mutton fat —
To hell with where my waist is —
 
Beef dripping, lard, and turkey grease,
Just pile it on my platter.
Pork crackling, oily ducks and geese;
Who cares if I grow fatter?
 
I’m in a gastronomic dream;
A fat-free diet? Shove it!
Bring on the butter and the cream —
Cholesterol? I love it!
 
My husband wouldn’t touch a speck;
He said that fat could kill.
But then he broke his stupid neck,
So now I eat my fill.’
Nicholas Holbrook

 
Come feed with me and be my love.
We never will be wan or gaunt,
But gustatory pleasures prove,
For lavish flesh is what we want.