Now is the time
for all good gals
to come to the aid
of our bodies. . .

Time to commit
to become your dream incarnate,
and leave behind the wobbly effort
whose fruits have proved a little shoddy,

and fit yourself
for whatever it is
that for you is absolutely IT–

And, if that means
you must ride into the wind,
put on, perhaps, some thicker jeans,
tie back your hair,
don some goggles clean,
all the better in that rushing wind to find delight,
till your inner fire’s
quite well lit,

and remember,
it just may feel better
if you’d glance back and turn your head,
if (God forbid)
you’d ever feel the need
to spit.

This entry was posted in Humor, Medium Length Poems, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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