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Squat
In the corner of the local gym is the lonely squat rack;
Usually empty, the cage where nobody talks smack.
The bar sits on the hooks beckoning me to come near;
The only way to go is deep into the hole without fear.
Putting the big wheels on either end, I stand and focus;
It's not magic how you build your body, it's not hocus pocus.
Stepping under the bar, I lift up onto my shoulders the weight;
Slowly, rep after rep, deep as I can, now I add another plate.
Another set, slower than the first, still deeper than before;
Repetition number ten, breathing heavy, racking it once more.
Another plate, heaver still than the last set, legs throbbing;
Fire throughout my body as I step in a third time nearly sobbing.
The third set is up, then I drop deeper, as the weight drives;
Firing from my hips like a piston, only the strongest survives.
Dropping into the hole, then driving back to standing tall;
Continuing to work set after set, until my legs can only crawl.
I ask, what else do I need to do in the gym today after I squat?
Home to soak my legs in the tub, I know what my effort bought.
11Jun09
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
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