Losing Weight: Revolutionary Cautionary Haiku

When you feel too fat,/
gripe at God. He’ll snap tendons/
and let you just sit.

Driving To A Blind Date: Romantic IMprov Haiku

She stared and smiled at/
me, eyes gleaming, thrilled to meet,/
until I stood up.

Exercize, Day One, 45 Minutes: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Ten lengths swum, three run/
in between. Sad. I’ll improve./
I’m my own drag suit.

Restroom Stall Doors: Revolutionary Blogging Haiku Lament

You know you’ve gotten/
too large when you wish restroom/
stall doors would swing out.

Hotel Mirror: Revolutionary ImproVerse Rhyming Haiku

Who was that old fat/
Buddha there sitting on his/
pink porcelain chair?

The Pot Calling The Kettle Fat: Revolutionary Improv Limerick

There once was a woman named Zhen*/
Who’d exclaim, (each time she’d walk in):/
“LOOK AT THAT!
You guys are all FAT!”
Which would set us to crying again.
*(pronounced “Zen”)

OR
There once was a woman named Zhen/
(though herself not overly thin),
who’d exclaim: “LOOK AT THAT!
You guys are all FAT!”
Which would set us to whining* again.

*eating

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Jaccuzzi Truth: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

A giant mirror/
around the jaccuzzi says/
I need to work out.

Utah All-You-Can-Eat Food Addiction: Revolutionary Improv Haiku

I went to an all-you-can-eat buffet in Utah today. It made me so sad to see (mostly women), 2 or 3 times as big as they should be, carrying 2, 3, 4 or 5 FULL plates of food back to their tables, stuffing themselves. It almost made me cry. And I’m not a skinny guy … but I was probably the 2nd smallest guy in the place! It’s amazing that a culture that places so much emphasis on avoiding “sins of the flesh” (drugs, booze, coffee, sex outside of marriage, smoking) can turn a blind eye to gluttony.

What should you do if:/
You can’t drink, smoke, do drugs, sex?/
Eat yourself to death.

Weighted Numbers Weighting: A Revolutionary Poem

135: A number I remember from high school.
170: The number on my wedding day
180: A number I was when I tried — and failed — to negotiate back to
170: The number where I wanted to be to “get more…”
199: A number I was 15 years and 4 kids later.
200: The number where I screamed when I saw it.
210: A number where I stopped looking.
220: The number today when I bought the scale and looked again.
(530): A number of someone who inspired me.
190: A number I’ll gladly go back to.
(X): The number of years I’ll add to my life.

Over Old and Overweight: A Revolutionary ConTEXTing Poem

Today I was told/
I look old./
Fat?/
Not wear it’s at./
2nite my body hurts/
on my way 2 being thin./
But if I do hard work,/
my heart won’t hurt/
that way again.