The Weight Room

This one is more abstract than usual and may be hard to follow.  It's a continuation of my tour of the gym where I work out (less often than I should).  In thinking about lifting weights, I got thinking about the whole process of tearing down, building up, and - eventually- wearing out.  At some point, I hope to work these different poems about exercise into a tighter, polished sequence of poems.  Right now, they're just poetic exercises.
                                                                 

                                             The Weight Room

                                    reminds us of the gravity

                                    of our situation

                                    as its equipment multiplies

                                    that downward force we’ve

                                    been wrestling with since

                                    we first tried to stand,

                                     the force that builds

                                    us up by tearing us down

                                    to build us better again

                                    (that’s how muscles grow),

                                    then batters us beyond

                                    recognition

                                    as cheeks sag,

                                    breasts droop,

                                    and even the mind

                                    seems earthbound.

                                  

                                    If we moved to the moon,

                                    at first we would seem supermen

                                    in the weaker gravity,

                                     but then our strength would weaken

                                    through lack of resistance

                                    and we would become

                                    mere mortals again. 

                                    When I was in grade school.

                                    I thought that if my arms got strong

                                    enough to lift  my body weight,

                                    I could then grab my own legs,

                                    hoist them up,

                                    and fly.

                                    Now I know you need

                                    a place to stand before

                                    you can lift anything.