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Vainglorious attempt
to prove myself a man
who still has some power
out on the street I ran.
Wed to goddess Durga,
she of a sex of arms,
my wife’s fierce as can be!
Power’s part of her charms.

Durga who’s fit and strong
is aging really well,
she looks at flaccid me
saddened I’ve gone to hell.
So morning in mid June
laced up my running shoes,
though she’s beyond my reach
felt I had much to prove.

I set off quite slowly,
a pace I could maintain,
I have a little loop
I’ve run time and again.
I ran entire loop,
I did not pause or walk.
nearly eight kph!
(I’m no kind of a jock.)

I returned home safely,
quite spent and out of breath,
I checked the time elapsed
and felt a bit bereft.
The goddess glorious ,
she that’s my blessed mate,
could scurry through my course
two-thirds time that I take.

Hard being mortal man
wed to a demigod
who’s fit and lean and strong,
all of the things I’m not.
But I shall persevere
as in her shadow live
for though she’s above me
it’s to me her love gives.

Woe unto any man
whose wife is tough as nails:
As for darling goddess?
She’s stuck with mate who’s snail.
All of the couplings
between mortals and gods
must make for strange bedmates
and one spouse overawed.