Lack of exercise is as bad for you as smoking
Mail Online, 18 July 2012
A circus is coming, and over London
hangs a feature bereft tarpaulin,
grey as the skin of a child fleeing
the rubble of her flattened home.
Tears run down my window pane.
It is six weeks since the last full moon.
Confined, we are obliged to live
under the weather, and while we wait
for a forecast of more of the same to come
the evening TV news lambasts us
for sitting and watching what they put on.
The dog wants its blanket back.
It’s tempting to exercise just to get warm.
Nothing extreme, mind, possibly running
a bath. Or taking a hike to the fridge.
The wife says the lawn needs mowing.
I tell her I’d need a submarine. She says
fetch the damn mower, I’ll plug it in.
(c) 2012 Slush Poet
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