Classic Poem

If I were thin — ah, love, if I were thin,
I'd greet the dinner menu with a grin.
Those sylphlike, belted jackets I would wear,
And pass by nothing on the bill of fare.
With oysters, soup and turkey I'd begin;
Some caviar, perhaps, served in a tin;
Then roast beef as an entree, and some vin
(Assuming I could order liquor there),
If I were thin.

No more I'd fear the dreaded double chin,
For calories I would not care a pin,
But, nonchalantly munching an eclair,
My graceful form draped loosely in a chair,
My much too spacious belt I'd then pull in,
If I were thin.