Work House Fitness Club Gaol

To poetize my poem, I must proselytize you to understand Oscar spent a great deal of his time at Reading Gaol on a treadmill.

The treadmill of Reading Gaol was very similar to what we of fitness glory true might call a climbing machine. What do we call such contraptions? Stepping machines? (I love the British use “stair mill”.) Okay, googling this, I discover we do, even today, call them treadmills. A brand name of such a device is the Stairmaster.

Hey sexy baby, taut and lean, taught and keen, schooled and clean,

Mastering your stairs! Mastering your treadmill! Shimmering, shimmying, perspectives of light and space,

You have a face,

Your right arm is identified with the number 12, just as you peddle to the metal, a pedal identified, near as I can tell, in the school of clarity bright, by the number 40.

Mastering your stairmaster, you might need to order replacement parts. If so, you need to know, so you can glow, the replacement part number, that you may go

Round and round, ever so slow.

Oscar spent so much time, serving his time, on his treadmill, in Reading Gaol. His health was ruined. I suspect Oscar lost a lot of weight. We could say he mastered his weight. Demonstrating “self” control, or “state” control, or “self-state” control, best of all.