I headed the school
I was the school head
John was the arms
Peggy was the asshole
and Jennifer the toes.
I loved the asshole best.

In my striped football sweater
and in my v-neck hockey shirt
I was a sight.
No wonder Peggy fell
under my influence.
Until the accident.
Then I lost her.

Flags wave and banners ripple.
All is lost for the visiting team.
There I am in a bad seat
scowling at our victory.
I cannot take my eyes off
her little bouncing skirt.
I'm talking about the cheerleader
named Peggy.
That was forty-seven years ago.
The Past.
I never think about The Past
but sometimes
The Past thinks about me
and sits down
ever so lightly on my face—
And me and Peggy
and John and Jennifer,
our scarves in the wind,
we're speeding
in the family roadster
to someone's house
in Nantucket
and I can walk again.