Calvin Ross: Gliding, Pivoting, and Thrusting

Calvin Ross

Our Unofficial Class Poet Laureate

 

Muscular Poetics

 

Field events of shot, javelin, and discus

are held away from the track for safety.

 

Whenever you see these three hold sway,

the most fun is the one that is heaviest.

 

Official rules for shot put specify entering

and exiting the concrete ring at the back.

 

I broke a big pinky by slamming my foot

into the toe board at the front of the ring.

 

The Jr. High grapefruit weighed 8 pounds;

Surprisingly, I tossed it a decent 41 feet.

 

At East High it tipped scales at 12 pounds;

I won the Kansas state meet at 54.8 feet.

 

The college heft of iron was 16 pounds;

A Parry O’Brien glide got a school record.

 

With Senior Games’ 3 kilograms weight

I set an age group new record of 42 feet,

But in later games I lobbed a cannon ball

of 2 kilograms  a paltry 37 feet in a sweaty

 

unceremonious conclusion to a career

of flinging steel spheres in skyward arcs.

Their thuds would carve artistic patterns

of divots on the chalk-lined field of dirt.

 

Metal orbs now sit abreast on a garage

shelf in the comfort of a well earned rest,

 

wins and near wins etched in dust and rust

covering decades of my torque and thrust.

 

– Calvin Ross

 

Editor’s Note:  Several years ago, Calvin wrote a story about his experiences in shot put competition and explained some of the physics and body mechanics involved.  See “Tossing a Shot Across Six Decades.”  “Muscular Poetics” tells that story in a very different way.