Becoming Classic Rock

My childhood rusts
exclusively in pawn shops
and yard sales, lodged
between crutches, fishbowls,
most of a soldering
iron, Mormon Tabernacle
Choir on vinyl.
I would buy back third grade
if they had it.
I buy back what I can:
fishing poles, a bike,
a Super Nintendo, but now
when I play
I’m better than I ever was—
which is something I never used
to need to say.