Premiered, and probably enjoying its only public outing at Café Create tonight:
Lines composed in honour of the man at the gym who, without removing any of his three layers of clothing, reads the Daily Express whilst on an exercise bike.
I see you 'cross a crowded room
And note you plod instead of zoom
The sweat that forms upon your brow
Appears by magic; can't guess how
Perhaps it's a response to reading
That has caused those droplets beading
Thoughts of all that immigration
Exercise imagination
You peddle in a mild manner
Wondering about Diana
Moving like a gentle dancer
Perhaps you think it causes cancer
Tory good, all others bad
Politicking makes you mad
Rattling your virtual sabre
You find it easy to blame labour
So I have some news for you
If getting toned is what to do
If you want to get more fit
You'll have to move your arse a bit
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