Thirty-Six

An old man (and not so old)
once told me (from first hand
knowledge, I presume)
that your luck runs out
after 30, (or was it 35?)
I was 26 at the time
ten years ago
never had I been so lucky as then
(if luck grows in proportion
to consequence) for I met
the love of my life
two days before the full moon
and a day before a bee sting
that told me (what I had been telling the old man)
was true - that it was going to sting going home
Is it true you can never really go home?
I never met a luckier black cat, blind in fact
cross my path and I always loved
Stevie Wonder - Superstitious -
and the girl that made me that mix...
Is it true you should not fix what's not been broken?
Let sleeping dogs lie?
Home seems to have disappeared
along with my health insurance, though
I never felt healthier since
nor do I miss home much
while I'm making a new one here.
So now that girl with the mix
is married with kids and I still
like to dance at weddings to Superstitious.
I'm 36 and dream of dead people
and disease and wake up to bliss
so what's it in praying to a yogi
and all the social acrobatics?
What about the chinese calendar
and the wisdom of the Andes?
A Space Odyssey has come and gone
as quietly as the vines crawl over
Mayan temples. 
A baby has died, torn from her father's arms,
and another reborn
to be spoiled and beaten
by those who know better
or who claim to know more
because they're older and wise
and so luck never gets credit
except in Hollywood
where everyone's a genius
and lemons cost $3 each.
In the end the old man wasn't really
Canadian, he was from those
storied orchards and strawberry hills
of better times when pride was no sin
and luck was dishonest
next to hard work.
His home was destroyed
and overpassed with pavement
and so life goes on accelerating
towards greener pastures
where the machines haven't yet arrived
there is still peace to find
where bees still make honey
and milk tastes like milk
and tomatoes taste like tomatoes
and people behave like animals,
rabbits are hunted and
bad dogs get kicked
and stay outside where they belong.
There's no begging for the drunk and blind
and there's health coverage for the old, long and winded
if they want to stand in line
where prevention is prescribed and
luck is religion.
Be at one with yourself and your nickname,
there's an undeniable reason behind it.
Love lies inside next to a wood burning stove,
rising bread and wine
and life is as charming as you think so.