In training

I’m training to be a poet

Twenty squats in the morning

5K over lunch

Fifty press-ups after work

Bloody burpees by the dozen

(Though I draw the line at shitees)

Forty metaphors a day

Hard core similes at weekends

Hench rhythm

Fitbit rhyme

But bugger crafting language

It’s the bod that matters

So by summer

I’m lean and

Buff enough

To sit

In the garden

Blakean naked

Writing poetry

Watching for angels