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A POEM - BY VICTOR BUONO

Sunday, November 21, 2010

AS A KID, I WAS A HUGE BATMAN FAN (WITH ADAM WEST) FROM THE 60'S TELEVISION SHOW. MY ALL TIME FAVORITE CHARACTER ACTOR IN THE CAMPY SERIES WAS VICTOR BUONO WHO PLAYED "KING TUT." AS SOME OF YOU MIGHT RECALL, MR. BUONO WAS A VERY LARGE MAN.

BUONO WAS A GENIUS AND I REMEMBER READING A BOOK OF POEMS HE WROTE WAY BACK THEN. THE POEMS WERE ALL ABOUT HAVING A WEIGHT PROBLEM AND WERE COMICAL. HE WAS ABLE TO POKE FUN AT HIMSELF AND WAS VERY COMFORTABLE WITH WHO HE WAS.

WE CAN ALL TAKE A LESSON FROM VICTOR BUONO AND TRY NOT TO TAKE OURSELVES TOO SERIOUSLY. WHILE WE ARE ALL STRIVING (VERY HARD) TO BE HEALTHIER, WE SHOULDN'T LOSE THE ABILITY TO LAUGH (OR AT LEAST SMILE).

QUITE BY ACCIDENT, I CAME ACROSS MY FAVORITE POEM BY VICTOR BUONO AND WANTED TO POST IT SO YOU COULD ALL ENJOY IT. I HOPE IT DOESN'T OFFEND ANY ONE. IT WAS MEANT AS LIGHT HEARTED ENTERTAINMENT AND I TOOK IT AS SUCH.

SO, WITHOUT FURTHER DELAY, HERE IT IS (ALONG WITH ANOTHER SHORT POEM HE PUBLISHED):

The Fat Man's Prayer
by Victor Buono

Lord, my soul is ripped with riot,
Incited by my wicked diet.
We are what we eat, said a wise old man,
And Lord, if that's true, I'm a garbage can!
I want to rise on Judgment Day, that's plain,
But at my present weight, I'll need a crane!

So grant me strength that I may not fall
Into the clutches of cholesterol.
May my flesh with carrot curls be sated
That my soul may be polyunsaturated.
And show me the light that I may bear witness
To the President's Council on Physical Fitness.

At oleomargarine I'll never mutter,
For the road to hell is spread with butter.
And cake is cursed, and cream is awful,
And Satan is hiding in every waffle.
Mephistopheles lurks in provolone,
The devil is in each slice of bologna,
Beelzebub is a chocolate drop,
And Lucifer is a lollipop!

Give me this day my daily slice -
But cut it thin and toast it twice.
I beg upon my dimpled knees,
Deliver me from Jujubees.
And my when days of trial are done
And my war with malted milks is won,
Let me stand with the saints in heaven
In a shining robe - Size 37!

I can do it, Lord, if you'll show to me
The virtues of lettuce and celery.
If you'll teach me the evils of mayonnaise,
The sinfulness of hollandaise
And pasta a la milanese
And potatoes a la lyonaise
And crisp fried chicken from the south!
Lord, if you love me, SHUT MY MOUTH!



Bless me Doctor
by Victor Buono

Bless me, Doctor, I have sinned
Since seeing you last week.
The spirit had the will to win
But ahhh, the flesh was weak!



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  Member Comments About This Blog Post:

WIFEOFSUPERMAN 2/16/2012 8:37PM

  I love Victor Buono's poetry, too! I've got his book, It Could be Verse.
I have a cassette recording of Mr. Buono reading two of my favorites on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson. I listen to it often. I've transcribed them to share with others because they are so great.

The Fat Attack
By Victor Buono
(as read on The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson around 1977)

. . .
It starts with a sound in the inner ear

My elbow muscles gather strength
My teeth and nails increase in length

And a special expression comes into my eyes,
Like Lon Chaney watching a full moon rise.

Sew my head in a burlap sack.
Itís a Kamikaze fat attack.

Right now, I want a wedding cake
Some lemonade, a cashew shake,

Two waffles and a bowl of chili
A hot dog full of piccalilli,

Some purple poi, and a loquat leaf
And french fries with a side of beef.

Restrain me lest I run amok
And mug a passing ice cream truck.

Spread it east, west, north, and south
Thereís an APB in Buonoís mouth

Provide protective custody
For Colonel Sanders and Mrs. C.

Put my check book, credit cards, cash in a trunk,
Containing two cobras, three rats, and a skunk

And sink it in the nearest bog.
Now hide the dog food and hide the dog.

Lace my malt with ipecac
Iíve got a munchie on my back.

I want some locks and scrambled eggs,
Some leg of mutton, all four legs,

A shovel full of caviar,
All the green corn tamales there are,

And San Francisco bloody rare,
You ask me, ďwhy?Ē because itís there!

So, do your duty, I insist.
Come lock me in. I wonít resist.

My bedroom shall become my cell.
Good-bye cruel world, fare thee well . . .

Poor fools, they think Iím penitent.
How gross, how unintelligent

To think me incapacitated
My appetite eliminated.

The turkeys have me underrated,
The closet is refrigerated.

Thereís knackwurst, pudding, cream, salami,
Cracked crab, Peking duck, pastrami.

My shoes are full of mayonnaise,
My boots are dripping hollandaise,

My hats are full of vinaigrette,
My wet suitís full of something wet.

Thereís bean dip in my teddy bear,
My headsetís full of camembert.

My marble bust of Earl Butts
Iíve hollowed out and filled with nuts

The 10 pound jumbo party mixture.
Thereís a pizza in the lighting fixture.

And check the night stand on the right
In the bottom drawer thereís a pilot light.

Oh, no, I shall not starve tonight.
But how I dread the morning light

To wake there dazed and belching
In the rosy rays of dawn
When the fat attack is over
But the garbage lingers on.

Lasagna on yon velvet chair.
Butter, butter everywhere.

Scraps of food on every hand.
Like a rocket attack on McDonald land.

Dear Lord, Iím just a guilt-encrusted sinner
And I swear Iíll give up eating!
Which reminds me, whatís for dinner?

A Theater Seat
By Victor Buono
(as read on The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson around 1977)

I think I shall never see
A theater seat thatís made for me.

A theater seat thatís wide enough
So I donít have to squeeze and stuff

And cram and crease and wad myself in
A seat designed for a seat more elfin.

A seat that isnít a cross between
A monkey wrench and a guillotine.

A seat that never clutches or pinches
Or bites or gouges in the clinches.

A seat that doesnít crimp the croup.
A seat that stays seated when I stand up.

Whenever I have a mind to go
To see a movie or a show,

I ask myself is it worth the risk
Of losing a knee cap or slipping a disc?

And how many innocent ankles and feet
Will I grind into dust on the way to my seat?

Are the magic, the music, the storybook stars?
Worth the fist fights, the lawsuits, the permanent scars?

Do I really dig sitting there squeezing my buff
Like a pound of cream in a half ounce puff?

Like Bigfoot on a Yamaha?
Or Beethovenís symphony played on a saw?

Like King Kongís head in Fay Rayís hat?
Or the Spruce Goose in a Fotomat?

You wouldnít put a peacock in a teacup.
You wouldnít put a football in your nose.
You CANíT put Dolly Parton in a B cup.
And you're not puttiní me in one of those!


Comment edited on: 2/16/2012 8:45:32 PM

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AMBUDMAN 11/21/2010 11:31AM

    What a great poem! Thanks for sharing.

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LAUROCHKA 11/21/2010 6:13AM

    That's great! Very amusing.
Lxx

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MARYJOANNA 11/21/2010 5:46AM

  Wow! What talent!

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