Back in boyhood, game was all.
Loved to race the rabbit ball.
Visor-crested; on my sweater
Shone like sun the blazoned letter.
Swart as Pawnee, hair like hay,
Sprinted on the plains of clay,
Rounded noon, and rash at seven
Cursed the light-forsaken heaven.
Loafer from the summer camp,
I upset the city champ.
Sharp attack and iron daring
Had the hot Achilles swearing.
Saw malacca banker stare,
Deb’s Cellini-fluted hair.
With the cutie and the colonel
I was fêted in the Journal.
Player, never act again
Sagas of the centaur-men.
In the tombs of attic pack it
Pewter loot and ribs of racquet.
Girl with golden-bolted knee,
Streamer-skirted, where is she?
Where is now the rich unreason,
Merlin nerve and angel season?
I in garret opus-lined
Cough and stoop and flicker blind,
In a topaz quarto nuzzle,
Annotate a printer’s puzzle.
Morituri. Summer done,
Heroes tumble, leave the sun,
Bank to manage, book to garble;
Last, to catch in roots and marble.
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