The gym smells of sweat and impermanence.
Solid black rows of silent weights
next to panels of unblinking mirrors.
Maybe that's why the gym brings
such excellent stress relief.
While daily tribulations bear down
like the weight of the world,
heavy as the bar you struggle against,
the sweat dries and the machines forget.
The scales always stand ready,
the machines unyielding to infinite reps.
Like the gentle ebb and flow of one's physique-
gym goers tending toward the extra holiday cookie or two,
then toning their resolve with a new year
or the impending specter of bikinis and the pool-
problems take on new perspective.
Unfeeling rows of ellipticals ridden round the moon
have pedaled through the break ups, the take overs,
the buy outs and the meltdowns,
have transformed the energy of every saddled rider
into tighter abs and leaner thighs
and brought them through to the other side,
arriving at a finish line though stationary the whole time.
4 January 2012