Glabrous Gorillas and Perfumed Peacocks

By

Glabrous Gorillas and Perfumed Peacocks

Standing in line at the door, confused
Not sure where I’m going anymore
A gym or a nightclub, not too sure.
Gorillas wearing loose tank tops
Peacocks in tight fitting Lorna Jane.
Each a clone; duplication in droves
No originality – all looking the same.
Internally I laugh; so much I’d like to say
Bite my tongue – I must refrain.

The weight room a right mess
Plates strewn all across the floor
Replicating their enclosures
Belongings and clothes they’ve already worn.
Shakes of protein lined up like shots
Proper eating and diet? Surely, I think not.
Out of proportion with stick like legs
Arms like trees and a chest full blown
Unbalanced, unstable – built like a keg.
Soon to encounter health issues they’ve never known.

If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen the rest
But “I’m an individual!” they all cry.
To make sure they stand out – inked themselves
From their toes to eyeballs up high
Topped off with a crazy ‘do – they lift heavy weight.
Arms shake, elbows pushed in by their mate
Sounds like severe constipation when they yell.
Look right ridiculous – but it’s all okay!
They think they’re amazing; so they must be great.

Mental capacity at full strain
There are few things
Going on in that brain
Booze, lifting and the fairer sex
The first two are easy –
The last one’s a test.
See a beautiful woman enter the room
Stand cemented to the spot, all is still. As
Jaws drop open; saliva begins to spill.
Beat their chest as they strut
Unaware of their limits –
No idea when is enough.
Intimidation their only language
Make themselves feel better
By making others feel worse.
Their personal insecurities a crippling curse.

The peacocks can’t escape –
They are one and the same.
Dolled up to the nines:
Perfect hair, flawless makeup
And cleavage in plain view.
Stand in packs, staring like hawks
Across the crowded room.
Checking out any guy they can find
Looking for a man – any man –
The biggest, loudest and most obnoxious –
Yes him! He’ll do.
Come running to her friend
Crying about how he’s a jerk.
Sleeping around from beginning to end
What can you expect?
When he’s in love with himself, not you.

Arrive and check into the gym
But physically they check out
Treadmill on speed number two.
No need to break a sweat
No work they will do.
Five cardio classes in a row
Holding back and not going hard
Makeup intact; their skin a healthy glow
Their fitness – nothing but a façade.
Don’t ever lift a weight they say
Think of all that muscle mass that has grown!
Don’t understand the meaning of strength
Or the sexiness of proper muscle tone.

Posting inspirational messages
Clean eating and all the rest
Yet still remain with a plate full of food.
No eating allowed here –
How else could they fit into that dress?
Thin like a rake, no curves at all in place.
Gorillas eye them up and down
Like a medium rare steak.
Get upset and depressed;
Why can’t he look me in the eye
Or put a smile on my face?

However, none of them are to blame
They are all victims of the message:
You can’t be yourself;
You all need to be the same.
But I’m here to tell you, I’m here to say
You don’t have to be a player in the game.

Break free and run
It gets easier once you’ve begun.
Find what makes you, you
Live a life of happiness and fun.
Gorillas and peacocks –
This life, you’ve only got one
So enjoy all of it
Before it’s long gone.

Submeg

Disclaimer: This piece is in no way attempting to belittle anyone. It is simply a humourous observation and my interpretation of that observation.

writing, my writing, poetry

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