No, that was not a typo. : )
An enthusiastic female fan sent in the following poem:
Hung

When I heard the measurement
twenty-five and a half inches
I admit I wasn't picturing the
world's biggest
arms.

Either way,
it caught my attention
and I looked up at whatever it was
ESPN2 was airing before
the British Football match
I wanted to watch
to see something called "World's Strongest Man",
and this
beautiful chest,
and these,
were those really arms?
Not some mistake by a
severely far-sighted
plastic surgeon who was really
confused when he performed that last boob job?

Either way,
it brought to mind
a few of those muscle guys
I work out with at the gym,
Trey stuffing two basketballs
into the sleeves of the hooded sweatshirt
he wore and saying
"Look, Manfred Hoeberl!"
as he posed for us
while we laughed.

But, it's hard to laugh
now that I've been to Olympus
and seen the God
Trey and his buddies aspire to be
with their Anadurin and Whey and
caffeine, aspirin and ephedrine stacks,
stretching, lifting and posing
while they tell each other
"Hoeberl's got to be mostly steroids, man, just 'roids"

I shake my head.
Arm envy? I laugh to myself,
and keep my quiet, smitten-with smile,
because either way,
he's still
well hung.

© 1998 O' Dwyer Gray

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