Poem #12: Three Professions

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I loved being a professional wrestler.
The smell of the popcorn and cheesewiz crowd,
the bite of the top rope,
smackin' that night's face into the canvass.
I was always the heel. And I loved it.

I loved being a professional synchronized swimmer,
the smell of clorine, the bright florescent lights,
the water over all of us as we met
underwater and rose to the surface.
I was often late in my position, but I loved it.

I loved being a republican senator.
The power, the money, the privilege,
having my rants published in the Congressional Record,
having bar bills paid by lobbyists.
I testified that I was never in her bed. But I would have loved to.

[This poem was suggested by a friend, who asked that I work  "syncronized swimmers" into a poem. Apologies to wrestlers and synchronized swimmers]
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