That screen in front of me,
familiar and yet so secretive,
a new surprise for me each day
and lonely evenings no longer stir,
or pull the strings that do support
an aching heart, this thanks to you,
who found your man, the local gym
is not for me, but for the two of you,
where you can sweat and reek,
where sneakers tell the story
of who you may or may not be.

it is the scent of inner rot,
perhaps this life was meant to be
unfair and strangely reminiscent
of déjà-vu in a past life of mine,
you called me a recliner pumpkin
who sits all night and guzzles beer,
God is my witness, He would too
be partial to my Heineken, the Dutch
do know the art of brewing amber fluid.
Your doctor made the observation
to you and me that top ingredients
within the beer bear force of life;
all vitamins are thus obtained.

Next to my keyboard to my right
sits patiently that little mouse,
the table on my left supports
a bucket, filled with ice and bottles
of juice of barley, to my health,
so stay away, I do not need you
have found a cyber-bride of beauty
and brains as well as lovely lips,
good-bye to sixpacks of the stomach
obliques and deltoid muscles yet,
our interests differ, let us smile
and live our lives to please ourselves.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-my-attic-ix/