My Abs Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Asleep with innate innocence
the jowls stretched out, no hair is tense.
You took advantage of me then
a wife can do this to her men.

You peeked by lifting silken covers
as if the time had come for lovers,
and early in the morning yet
a sign of ageing etiquette?

I did acquire as of late
a more relaxed but steady state,
a lack of juice to sting to action
abdominals and their contraction.

I never meant to show a soul,
that I had grown a fleshy roll
of dormant muscles infiltrated
with fats that one finds illustrated
in nudist camps and magazines.

In future I shall eat my beans
each night before the lights go dim
until my pot reverts to trim.
Until that day please do refrain.
A man like me is always vain.