THE NEW SIXTY
By Robert E. Petras
Give me something
To make my knees laugh
For today they are
In the emergency-use-only mode.
I remember when “hip”
Meant trying to fit in;
Now, it’s titanium, screwed,
Holding my life sentences together
Like a hyphen.
I remember when burpees
Made the best burger toppings
When 150 was a decent bowling score,
Not an iffy blood pressure.
I have learned the CrossFit way
You can’t staunch wounds
With sweatbands and terry cloth.
I should have taken up
A less bloody sport
Like hunting and trapping.
Today I am so sore
I could not perform
A set of diddly-squats.
I have come to a crossroad
At CrossFit, waiting
For the white digital walking dude
To appear, knowing
Full well there is only
A small road cone separating
“age-defying” from “age-denying.”
Hey, that’s not me with a limp,
But a 65-year-old strut.
