Musty We

A memory
trickles as it tickles:
twenty five years ago
to want to be haunted
so much as to break an 
arm and a leg
non-compound
in a mind beset by 
its own newness.

I met a physical
that I did not pass;
I stayed, inflexible,
accorded the Presidential
Unfitness Post-test
too similar to 
a swarm of multiple
choice bees.

That was then, when
bowling was when
I did not say when
and found my awkward
shoes where I left
them in the cubby
behind my shame-
spared desire.