This week’s poem, called Up for Grabs, is by Matt Carter.
No matter how quickly I run around
And despite all the effort put in
I can’t seem to shift the unsightly mound
That grows two feet under my chin
I exercise daily by walking to work
And star-jump whenever I can
I’ve taken up judo and learnt how to twerk
(Though I’m told that I dance like my Nan)
I’m always on the cross trainer at nights
While I catch up with all of my soaps
And I’ve booked a few days in the Austrian heights
To burn off some fat on the slopes
My diary is full of Triathlon events
My shed houses steppers and weights
And I’m planning to get – if my partner consents –
Some new chin-up bars fixed to our gates
If a personal trainer came round here right now
To assess the commitment I’m giving
I’m sure I’d be told that I’ve got the know-how
That’s essential for good, healthy living
So why have I still got wobbly spare tyres
When I should have washboard-like abs?
I’d like a physique that my loved one admires
Not one that’s just up for grabs….
….Well, enough of this moaning, it’s muffins for brunch
And that breakfast fry-up was a winner!
I’m thinking of having a burger for lunch,
With some lush battered Mars Bars for dinner!