C’mon Baby Let’s Do the Twist

Twisted him in pretzels

around neck – what the heck!

It slipped to his middle,

deflected his spleen

because of tight jeans -

wonderful vessel

to tremble and wrestle,

attempt not successful -

it sprang back in shape.

He couldn’t undrape

damage I wrought.

I tried to reshape

but all was for naught.

Rich dough of pretzel

coiled up in soft shell

wafting yeast smell -

never ends, never dispels.

I need to discard

what’s left of the pretzel

in my backyard -

it’s not my fault

that he still resides

in the pretzels’ insides.