A Monday poem

Legs
Painful as shingles
Stiff as a Catholic priest at Christmas
Lungs
Cloudy as Autumn
Heavy as a Braintree barmaid
Teeth
Stained with flies
Blackened by an insect onslaught
So why
Oh why oh why oh why
Did I go cycling again tonight, 48 hours after nearly crippling myself for life?
What a tit.

RC 23-5-16