The room was hot, suffocatingly hot!
No ventilation in the building?! grumbled the man
As he drumbled into Striking Scorpion pose.
Straightening his back he shrank with one leg outstretched:
A tail ready to arch over and bite him with his foot,
The heat was unbearable!
Beads of sweat dripped from his head to toes,
It’s sweltering in here, he muttered,
An inferno, a fiery hell!
The instructor guided them into Upward Cactus,
“Good good,” she encouraged, “Move from the hairs out!
Shoot for the stars, that’s it!”
Vile I say, the man complained.
Why in the world did I sign up for Desert Therapy?
Must’ve been out of my mind!
That’s what bankrupcy’ll do to you, he mused,
Descilescent thoughts coming and going;
He continued to twist, bend, plank,
Stretch; to the outer reaches of the galaxy
Touching the full spectrum of possibility
The room shrank
The room stank
He lay prone upon the floor
Eyes staring unseeing
At the ceiling above.