UNEASY CHAIR
I don't mind when the woman sits.
She's not a tub of lard like him.
Her backside is so small. It fits.
She works out daily at the gym.
My legs support her weight just fine.
With him I feel my legs might snap.
I fear someday he'll cross the line
and let her sit upon his lap,
and then I'll meet my sorry fate
in splinters strewn across the floor.
If only he would lose some weight
I would not worry any more,
or if she'd toss him on his crown,
divorce him for some skinny chap,
I would not mind when they sat down,
alone or in each other's lap.
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