They chalk their hands,
They stare at length,
They turn to prayer
To find the strength.
They eye the bar,
These feral brutes,
Muscles bulging
From skin-tight suits.
Massive shoulders,
A fearsome back —
They don’t buy clothes
From off the rack.
They rant and rage,
They grunt and groan,
They snort and scream,
They bellow, moan.
Ungodly weight
They hoist somehow.
It might well be
A couch or cow.
Fibers quiver,
Their faces red,
This ghastly load
Goes overhead.
They hold the weight,
They hear a roar.
They let it drop
And smash the floor.
I watch these hulks
And I’m a mess
From witnessing
Extreme duress.
I’m tired, spent
And put upon.
A hernia
Is coming on.