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Muscle
I got a popeye muscle
Although I'm not a sailor man
And I don't eat much spinach
At least not out of a can.
My name is not Olive
It isn't Bluto either
I know instead of lifting
I should've used a lever.
My popeye muscle looks swell
Just like I've been working out
But it's just the one arm you see
Which leaves a little doubt.
And it may not be clear to you
This was my biggest ordeal
I did it with great fervour
And enthusiastic zeal.
Well I just couldn't ignore it
Or leave it alone
I wouldn't have attempted it
If I'd foreknown.
It was a rockery garden
That I went and made
And because of this garden
My bicep muscle splayed.
poem
by
Hazel Connelly
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