health club

with your half off coupon
in hand you go and
visit a health club.
you want to be healthy.
it seems to be the way
to go these days. they have
a yoga class there and
a steam room where
you can lie around like
a roman senator and sweat
the wine and pork
out of you. the floor
area reminds you
of a boiler room
in the hull
of a freight ship.
there are lots
of complicated black
machinery.
the faces have that
don't talk to me look
about them as they
huff and puff
on the treadmills,
and cycling machines.
a class of spinners are
in the corner being yelled
at by a drill sargent
who seems angry
about something.
everything has a goo
about it as if it rained
cholesterol and something
is in the air. you wish
they had windows
that opened to let out
the latex sweat soaked
smell. this might not be
for you afterall you
think as you squirt
sanitizer gel onto your
hands, rubbing them
together, and as you leave
you hand your coupon
to a woman
coming in, licking
an icecream cone.
she's wearing a headband
and wristbands, and
pink shoes. her glutes
are being stretched.