Vox Populi
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David Kirby: Leg Day at the Gym
Have you noticed that when you drop a piece of candy
into a trick-or-treater’s bag, there’s not a kid in the world
who doesn’t bob his head to scowl at it as though his frown
will change your dollar-store bubble gum or, worse, your box
of Sun-Maid raisins or, worse still, your apple (“Fresh fruit is
so much healthier for you!”) into a family-size Snickers bar?
“What is human life?” said Ernst Renan. “Is it not a maimed
happiness—care and weariness, weariness and care, with
the baseless expectation of a brighter tomorrow?” Leg day
at the gym is the worst. Squats, dead lifts, lunges: leg day
leads to wobbly legs, not to mention such serious
post-workout soreness that it has become a metaphor,
with people saying things like “Filing taxes is emotional
leg day” and “That meeting was leg day for my soul.”
But isn’t every day leg day at the gym? If not for you,
for somebody. Last night we were sitting on the deck
and talking about high school, and Jamie said her
driver’s ed teacher thought his wife was entertaining
another man when he was at work, so Jamie would drive to
his house and park while the teacher looked through windows
and jiggled the doors, all of which were locked.
Why would he do that? Did he really want to catch
the lovers in the act? I don’t think so. I think he was
just hoping he’d find something to make him happy.
Life isn’t always hard, but it’s almost never easy.
Tagore says the morning will surely come, and in another poem,
he writes about birds still building nests in the rain.
~~~~
Copyright 2025 David Kirby
David Kirby is the Robert O. Lawton Distinguished Professor of English at Florida State University. He has received many honors for his work, including fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts. His many books include The Winter Dance Party: Poems, 1983–2023 (LSU, 2024).
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Wonderful use of Renan and Tagore quotations beautifully woven into a poem as down to earth as a leg workout in the gym or a relationship on the rocks. Reminded me of Nagel: the human story is a spasm between two oblivions (or something close to that).
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Thanks, Brad.
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Sensational, as usual!
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David Kirby’s poems are always a wonderful adventure. After reading this poem, I will always think of him as a master builder-of-nests-in-the-rain.
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David’s great, isn’t he? His poems always strike me as a regular guy just talking, and the speaker happens to be brilliant and charming.
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Exactly!
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And…voilà, yet another delights-and-humor filled “sensational” poem, indeed! Yay. David is one of those poets whose tone and pace you recognize in line two or three: “That’s a Kirby poem right there!” No need to look up who wrote it. As for just as brilliant Barbara Hamby: ditto!
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They are both great poets, aren’t they?
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On the Board Walk in the Coney Island of your mind, the hot dogs taste of hope, the bubble gum stays sweeter than the kiss you never had, the ocean is tepid, but the waves break in excited animation.
Then you wake to sore legs, a toothache. a cold dog on a soggy bun. Till you find the resolve to dream it again. Or you Trick or Treat, the pillow case you fill weighs more than Donald’s does. You duck walk with your Halloween booty, through broken-promiseland.
Kirby’s poem inspired this little ditty.
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I love it, Jim! Keep em comin.
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