Gluten Free Glutes

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John T. Wurzer

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We boarded the plane in hopes of taking off before the storm blew through
Staring out the window watching luggage handlers and a goddess on the tarmac crew
Thunder started clapping, and lightning started flashing, seemed like an ocean fell out of The skies
The boys all ran for cover but that sexy ground crew lover; she just started to exercise

She was working on her gluten free glutes in the pouring rain
Step back lunges and clothes like sponges soaked to the skin and numb to the pain
Lightning and thunder, and a spell that she's under somehow forcing her to remain
Standing there working on her gluten free glutes in the pouring rain

Yeah, she was crunching her abraded abs through the teaming tide
Puffing like a smokestack; standing on the tarmac, she would not be denied
Gusty winds are pelting, her smile but it wasn't melting at its roots deep down inside
She was just crunching her abraded abs through the teaming tide

Sheets of water so thick that I cannot see
But still I kinda wonder why she's drawn to me
With her dark chocolate eyes and her hollow face
That's an image of her that I'll never erase

She keeps on toning up her triceps and her biceps as the storm blows through
Contorting in a sporting series of moves the likes of which are few
Still she's wishing she was fishing somewhere in the south of Spain
Instead of working on her gluten free glutes in the pouring rain

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