I´ve Never Tried Yoga Poem by Jennifer Strubel

On a cold stage, a pile of people before me,
I wonder what the hell I am doing there.
I know that one, the one with the wet curls,
sweating like always.
His salt splashes creating a small puddle and I purposely move to avoid stepping in it.
They are all perched on their yoga mats now,
But my body doesn´t bend like that.
I should feel left out, but the heavy breathing is strangely comforting so I just pretend to laugh instead.