Working out is like fucking

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I’m thrusting through with a fierce resolve

A dirty push-up

My head is filled with images of naughty girls in clown costumes 

My arms are feeling sore from the calculations of corrected positions 

I break a sweat and my heart makes a loud thud

Nothing really matters in this space 

Just fine movement at rhythmic paces 

Bone grinding bone

Fluids mixing up

All the commotion in my head disappear

And for that moment I am sane 

In this zone, I make a vow 

To always kiss the floor when I do a push-up

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