Old old old. I've been a-trawlin'.

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I didn't know that pain only stops
with an application of beer. I didn't know
the limitations of wine, or that a smell of flowers
in your armpits could cure problems so deep
they are woven in like stains.

Games we played as kids turn
to gambling with snakes; classic songs
are hacked to fit a time-limit; you are told
you are too old just now for that: it's then

you wish you could have that crunchy breakfast
for your lunch, or that your world could only bend
a little bit to fit you in, or break your fall.