There’s No Place Like Holmes . . .
Lithe, petite and very, very pretty
Tank top, short shorts
On her left shoulder a tattoo.
A tattoo of a Hindu God
Scowling image with curlicues,
Twisting with every motion of arm and torso.
On her thigh, emerging from the barely concealed
Buttock – a vine –
Twisting sensuously down her
Leg.
****
Pecs don't just happen.
Here too….tank top is mandatory
Slavic genes help.
You trash your chest with weights
Bench presses, cable crossovers
Even simple closed fist pushups.
All in front of a mirror
So that you can curl your arms
Snarl
And admire your progress.
****
Between 3 and 4 every afternoon
A handful of retired gents
Mustaches and pot bellies.
One with a bandanna across the brow
To catch the sweat that never comes.
Between sets they talk
Politics
Finance
At the end they drink coffee.
And admire the girl with the tattoos.
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