The Push Me Pull You Game

Like a character in a Dr Seuss book I play the New Years “Push Me Pull You” game Daily I stretch stubborn limbs Into pretzel-like shapes Hoping to mitigate nature’s downward force I beg my legs to carry me with a ballerina’s lightness Instead I’m gratified to lumber like an elephant But just as surely Gravity returns each night Tightening my joints’ screws Pulling my tendons’ strings Compressing my spine's vertebrae Ignoring my pleas To just stay where I put them Hips refuse to do my bidding I say, “Swivel!”. They reply with a half-hearted twist Like opening a tin with a rusty can opener They creak and protest Surrendering minimally to my commands I pray for rubber-band arms As I reach behind to unzip I receive a lock-jaw response Elbows protrude in disjointed positions Instead of a ballerina’s plie My legs respond with twisted screams of agony My neck once had backward eyes that inspired terror In kids afraid of being discovered Now it is straight-jacketed into a forward position Like a soldier in a parade line Afraid to get called-out by the commander Don’t push us too far my muscles yell Aches and pains too terrible to imagine Will be your rewards If you overextend.