I have an array of tents

They’re nearly all the colour black

I don’t use them for going camping

Or carry them in a pack

They don’t go over a ground sheet

To keep out the wind and rain

or provide temporary accommodation 

When I’ve lost my flat again

No these are the ones that I wear

For every occasion you see

They have to be very loose fitting

To make room for a person like me

Every time I put one on

I delude myself once more

By thinking no one will notice

That my frame takes up the floor

I waddle along in the black ones

And sometimes put on the red

But the end result is always the same,

and I wish I’d stayed in bed

This tent that I have to live in

is no longer a ruse or disguise

For the obvious fact

that I have to lose weight

and give everyone a big surprise! 

The Urban Poet 2020