The Secret Life at the Gym
“Take no prisoners, baby!”
Joe declared, bumping fists
with the other guys on exercise bikes,
when he came out to the machines
from the locker room
like a basketball star entering the court,
slapping high fives, pumped.
You could hear the crowd cheering,
see the lights strobing,
in his head.
For the next half hour
it was fuckin’ this and fuckin’ that
among the guys on the bikes
before they shaved, showered,
put on their suits,
went to their day jobs
to talk courteously to clients,
Joe an investment counselor
for one of the firms downtown
with the hyphenated names.
Charles Rammelkamp is Prose Editor for BrickHouse Books in Baltimore, where he lives and Reviews Editor for Adirondack Review. His most recent books include American Zeitgeist(Apprentice House) and a chapbook, Jack Tar’s Lady Parts ( Main Street Rag Press). Another poetry chapbook, Me and Sal Paradise, is forthcoming from FutureCycle Press.
Wonderful and accurate depiction! interestingly, as a longtime gym frequenter and college prof, I’ve never seen women act this way. And no, I do not work out at a college gym. I’m talking 33rd St. YMCA.