they try to encourage me
"i was once like you",
a smile and a generous voice
descends upon my ears,
"but now i much prefer
a yogurt smoothie to
a hot fudge sundae,
a six mile run to
an afternoon lying by the pool"
i mumble under my breath,
keeping it beneath their notice,
"you were never like me,
if you were,
you would have
slapped yourself
for even thinking
something like that"
they are clearly crazy to prefer
the haiku of a rice cake
to the full moon howl of pulled pork
churn and burn like robots
rather than relax
and catch up on that show everyone watches
mine, i know,
is a useless sanity
knowing the difference
between tiramisu and tofu,
a dogged connection to
a reality which can only hasten
the day when the earth
will be inherited by
jogging fools and their
lunatic juice power gospel.