The Eccentric Chair Exercise

The measure of my sweat

is to sit and rise from this same chair;

why run those redundant laps?

Why hoist all that performative weight?

I have only my chair and my heavy bones to lift,

and the cruel hand of gravity to force me down.

I refuse to fit into this narcissistic society,

these eccentric ways of shaping my wavy frame

into a rigid square that doesn’t bounce or woggle

like frequencies of sugar and unburnt grease.

Tell me, I must know, is my chair not enough

to sweat my heart out of this low, sedentary path?

We do it regardless: in the office, at school, at home;

We stand up and we sit down.

How many times per day? Is it not as grueling as a ten-mile race?

Yes, my chair belongs at the Olympics; behold, the “Chair-Race!"

The slower you descend, the closer you crawl to fitness.

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