It is soon to be the time of year
for promises to keep
and miles to go before
I sleep,
(Sorry Mr. Frost],
and at breakfast, here I am
in a diner ever-so-greasy
with buttery grits,
eggs over easy,
Kentucky ham
and red-eye gravy
feeling guilty
while I say, “Oh, maybe
I’ll start in the new year.
It’s then I’m giving
up calorie laden, micro-brewed beer.
I look around and what do I see?
(not twelve reindeer)
A lot of really fat people
all younger than (ungrammatical) me.
No maybe’s maybe
to be for me.
I’m starting that diet before
the end of January.
I’ll start soon,
I promise myself.
If not then, then certainly
by mid-February.
As Mr. Frost wrote,
“I have promises to keep
and miles to go before I sleep.”