In my day, we didn't have "Lego."
If we wanted to build something,
my dad would throw some bricks at us
and say "here!
build us a got-damned house!"
Of course, we didn't have mortar.
We had to make our own.
Out of cow pats and a special brine
that was also used to make pickles.
We didn't complain. Not us.
And we'd never even heard of Earl Grey tea.
We knew who Earl Grey was, of course,
he was the man who owned the cows
that we had to chase when we wanted
to make mortar.
Wouldn't have named a tea after him, myself,
but then no one asks me these things.
We didn't have money to spend on things
like "digitile downloads" or "chapbooks,"
so when we wanted poetry
we'd sit in a classroom
and read it out loud.
And it was cold.
Even with all the candles.