Playing the mouse on the wheel, <br />I chase my health <br />on my usual machine, <br />my legs running <br />in little metal circles <br />on the rubber road by the cooler <br />going nowhere. <br /> <br />Alas, in walks Adonis <br />from some better place- <br />at least I imagine so. <br />If only that short one there <br />would step aside. If only <br />his balding skull were transparent, <br />or he'd tended to that single <br />rebellious tuft in the back <br />concealing Mystery Man. <br /> <br />Perhaps if I'd attained <br />the x-ray vision I'd expected <br />from Lasik's fifteen minutes of pain... <br /> <br />But there he remains, eclipsing <br />the path of perfection, oblivious <br />to the theory of relativity <br />where sexual attraction is concerned, <br />perhaps believing that his presence <br />here alone warrants gifts of grace <br />and gravity reversal. <br /> <br />I stare so long I lose my pace, <br />bells warning of sure disaster <br />should I stop mid-torture. <br />It's futile anyway, I tell myself, <br />and dress for coffee at three. <br /> <br />Sure, I'm too good for him. <br />Maybe he has an unusual nose. <br />Besides, I was almost actually <br />breaking a sweat.<br /><br />Lori Boulard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/08-chasing-vanity/
