Big Jack

he fills his chair,
leaning back into power pose,
his elbows point east and west
and his large gut stretches his shirt buttons
to the almost breaking point.
the soles of his shoes face me,
he wants me to know he's in charge.
i get it
but i'm faster than big Jack,
he can only move his cumbersome frame
with great effort and mind cannot
escape body.
he'll be struggling out of his chair
as i race down the track
way ahead, never looking
back.