Jeans (or A Dieter's Lament)

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as size six jeans

Jeans whose zipper zips right up

Without protesting to my rump

Jeans that will not bag all day

Even after thighs that splay

Jeans that flatter, jeans that pop

And hide my growing muffin top

Within whose denim I can hide

The divots dotting my backside

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only Lipolife in the strip mall next to the old Denny’s that is now a hangout for drug dealers and daytime hookers

Can get me into those size six jeans.

 

(inspired by Joyce Kilmer's poem Trees)