yoga class

sitting almost
in a lotus
position.
your legs don't
bend like that
anymore
unless you've
had three
martinis, you
stare at the
imaginary flame
of an imaginary
lit candle,
emptying
your mind,
which takes all
of three
seconds, except
for that continuing
thought about
ginger
in her leopard
print bikini.
you breathe out,
you breathe in,
you mutter
something like
ohmmmm, or ouch
as your
leg begins
to fall asleep
under your stiff
butt.
to clear your
mind of ginger
you think about
levitating,
about rising off
this yoga mat
and zipping over to
that fountain
to get a drink of
water. you
are really thirsty
it's hot
in here. why is it
so damn hot in here?
maybe it's because
there's so many people
in here humming like
a bunch of cicadas.
why doesn't
miss smarty pants,
yoga master
in her pink supergirl
outfit
open a window?
what's she doing.
how in god's name
did she get
her leg
over her head like
that. again
you think of jojo