Being Vigorous

Whenever I'd come home from school, 

fourth-graded and shy,

chubby and disheartened,

walking slowly to my bedroom.

My dad would always say, 

"Son, you need some vigor!"

"Get on a bike! Move around!"

And when that didn't work,

he'd say,

"I'll bribe you."

So growing up, I learned to hate

being vigorous. 

I'd slop around the house with the consistency

of soup.

I'd gloop to the bus stop in the morning

like sludge on the bottom of trash.

I'd stoop around town in my mothers

mini-van, demanding she take me 

to some trading card game tournament 

or to some dumpster

full of pizza.

I'd do anything I could to be 

ludicrously lazy, but I like the way

I turned out.

I just hope any potential

children I may father feel

the same way.