You read the mandatory list
every race at recess
but between its dry
repetition of gears, nothing is news.
Except the five-grand
rain coat you bought
for the latest.

You wore Decathlon shoes
with Arc’teryx cap, and chewed
double-mint Green Arrow
to soften your breath.
Poor strange boy,
you were unreasonably adult
at taking your time,
and withdrew at CP-1.

You were too bored,
slow and cool to laugh,
like playing a game of chess
with your old friend Ralph.
You usually won —
motionless
as a lizard in the sun.