Red faced thick little racer, summer rec wrecking your summer, with the diving board trembling under. You never think about finishing last. You’re running past and thinking after the fact. You’re thinking fast and running faster than that. You saw her first and you wouldn’t lose. Your handed down cologne and suit, you showed off the chin-ups that you could do. A ride, the sprawling almost-countryside, she tried to quiet down your insides. But it never seems to be enough to try when you cut yourself shaving and you fuck up your tie. It never seems to be enough to try. It’s second shift and you’re standing on line with your civilian’s soft decline. You’re building up engines and marking off time. You’re working hard and drinking after. You’re drinking late and staring past her. You’re thinking fast and you’re running faster.