On March 16, all community center gyms closed down in Vancouver, drastically altering my fitness level. This is the second in a series of gymcentric poems, looking back at a different time (3 months ago!). As that great gymgnostic , Slim Volume, once said; “A man whos is tired of the gym, is a man who has been to the gym”.
Tales from the Gym….Two Bros
Two bros on a mat
one on his back
hands clasped behind his head
legs bicycling like a capsized fly;
the one with the green hair
and the tattoos of a religious nature
is grunting weights .
Fly bro, it appears,
is having girlfriend problems
and is experiencing
some kind of vague existential crisis,
green hair bro listens carefully to his tale of woe
and after some reflection says:
It’s life, man,
stop trying to understand it,
no one can
and then, as if startled by his own profundity,
he repeats: no one can.
Out of the mouths of bros….
in the background a bearded jock
in a tight black T shirt
his muscles packed with powdered whey
his eyes a steroid yellow
is down on his hunkers
across the floor
like a slow motion crab
across packed sand at evening.
Taking part in Open Link Night over at dVerse. Check them out here: