Wake-Up Call? (A Rhymed Response to Hatha Yoga Class)

"Will you join me for hatha?" my best friend tried.
"I had one at Starbucks today," I replied.
"No, silly! It's yoga," she eagerly said.
"They've already taught me to stand on my head!"

We stretched into lycra and went to the gym
To learn six positions for stretching each limb.
My whole body ached, at the back of the class,
And the lady behind me kept passing her gas.

The guru, he taught us to roll out our tongues
And pant like a dog, at the top of our lungs.
We postured and gestured and reached way up high,
As he muttered a mantra to scents in the sky.

Before he dismissed us, he stood straight and tall
And waved a bright crystal out over us all.
Completely bewildered, I packed up my tote
And slipped out the back without rocking his boat.

My friend was delighted I joined her that day.
She bade me become her hatha protege.
I gently refused, as I started my car;
I wanted to answer, "My dear, how bizarre!"

Her guru's soft chantings, they did me no good,
Although I am sure he earned his livelihood.
But after his class, I had not become thin;
Instead I was reaching for two aspirin!

The next time the yoga class arches and groans,
I'm heading directly for coffee and scones,
Rebuilding my karma with stimulant sweet
That certainly helps get me back on my feet.