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You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine

                           You Too can Have a Body Like Mine

 

As Barry, his Personal Induction Coach, enthused about

The lats and abs, the pecs and delts, that ugly

Awkward lexicon of vanity,

Frank could only think of Jan’s parting words that

Made a more familiar sense.  ‘ You are Hopeless. Lazy,

Indolent.’  The first two words he knew, but ‘Indolent’?

Just close enough to idle and to ignorant,

For Frank to stab a guess it wasn’t complimentary.

 

Frank scuffled to keep pace with Barry’s virile gait,

Catching breath only as he noisily high-fived a parade

Of  misshapen men at whom he’d

Lovingly bray ‘Looking ripped!’ .Frank pondered, albeit

With deepening dismay, if in months to come,

He too, would preen and smirk at such lusty bonhomie.

Until now, being ripped, whatever it might claim  to be,

Was not  a  ‘Lifegoal’, Barry ,had cared to mention.

 

Frank laboured with the will to live,

As relentless Barry shared the joy of  Zumba, Pilates,

Boxercise, and extolled the sumptuous rewards

Of Complimentary  towel and Sunbed in the Platinum Lounge.

But on mishearing Barry’s claim that cross trainers’ needs

Were also met, Frank found a startled interest, but failed

To spot, amidst the sweating spangled

Lycra, one single sweating man in frock and heels.

 

With a just discernible toss of hair and purse of lips

At every mirror passed, Barry  cleared his throat to announce

With proud, and husky reverence

Their arrival at the weights room. Amidst the tumult of grunts

And snorts, the clangs and imprecations, cheerless

And dissatisfied. men, waged private civil war against their flesh.

Frank fleetingly held in his gut and puffed his chest ,

Which only served to make him sad,  then sadly nauseous.

 

And finally back, to sign up to this awesome deal.

Barry said that if Frank could , focus and then optimize,

In one year’s time, you might get to be like me.!                    

The dreadful implication  of these simple words, amidst the zealous

Gymspeak, stilled Frank’s hand.. Replacing Jan’s final words, with

‘Shallow, vain and witless’ seemed hardly worth such pain and sweat.

Frank handed back the pen, turned and ambled slowly out,

Past startled slack jawed Baz . Over narrow, pallid shoulder,

 

He gently whispered:: Thank you Barry,

But I think, all told, I’d rather be, just me.

 

◄ The Real thing

Doubting Thomas Or Epiphany in Halifax Last Sunday ►

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