The real world does not deliver on its promises to its children

I, too, expected a lot more quicksand and
accidental discovery of TNT
potatoes in tailpipes
getting chased by something scary
anvils falling from the sky
even knowing what an anvil is
digging up hidden treasures and ancient bones
breaking into houses when no one’s home
wrapping a dirty cloth around my bloody fist
hot-wiring cars, public humiliation
so much public humiliation
someone grabbing my ankle
as I’m trying to climb away

I’m trying to climb away, but

I get the sense of someone
who has been curating the world
select and organize only
the best parts, only the best parts
algorithm was not a word I knew
but now homogeneity is
beige, the unoffensive
grabbing my ankle
as I’m trying to climb away