Hanging plump from denim
lovingly hugging belt-loops
button fly, underwear elastic,
are my calzones, Ho-Ho's,
Some would call you 'muffin-top'
and how fitting!
Willing to wager that my steady diet
of pancakes, cupcakes, carrot cakes,
ambition to be a beef-cake,
fear of looking like a fruit-cake,
led to my doughy physique,
frosted by moments of dessert menu regret.
Pioneer spirit labels you 'saddle bags'
bringing out the cowboy in me.
With these fatty flaps I could bull-whip banditos,
dismantle train tracks with badonka-donk dynamite,
until I remember that saddle bags are not worn
by the desperado, but the mule,
making me the jackass of the joke.
Comforting to have a 'spare tire'
just in case a friend blows a flat,
while finding a six pack;
I'm more than happy to lend you mine."
But for all the pet-names,
I choose to honor our romance,
affectionately calling you my
Unlike the heart,
dropped and lost so easily,
I can't seem to get rid of you.
Loyal like my cravings,
never leaving my side,
growing like a jiggling chuckle.
skinny jean's woe,
curves in all the wrong places,
giving me at least one thing
that I can hold on to.