Increment, gain, increase—
My belly grows in peace
Fatter than Buddhas or
The heaviest emperor.

Increment of the self:
No Ghibelline or Guelph
Felt his self more intact
Than I, or more perfect.

Gain of the weighty word:
Ponderous and absurd
Analogies from Greece
Fatten my speech apace

And struggle to increase.
I struggle, in my grease,
Half man and half cold fat,
To wear my weightiest hat,

To gain, and hold my gains:
My egg and gravy stains,
Like jewels in my crown
My academic gown,

My hair that duly parts,
My six reptilian hearts,
My simple murderer's hands
On which the live fat stands,

And, by itself, my head,
Sluggish and amply fed,
Which thinks with glee of that
Ever-amassing fat.

Substance and self-respect.
I am of that good sect
Of which the Khan is weighed
In diamonds, then betrayed,

And if I talk to you
Slowly, my voice like glue,
Shaking, my hands like tongues,
Breathing from heavy lungs,

You may know I would have
Your substance to my grave,
And would acquire your weight
To my edifice of hate

That is the only good.
Copper, nor brick, nor wood
Lie on my endless paunch
Like everlasting lunch,

But let them write for me
"He is as he would be,
Weighty," and set it down
In fat, substantial stone.

Increment, gain, increase—
What have we got but these?
What we have got we know.
My belly tells me so.