Straws
Straws are worms
moving with a drop.
Bewitched,
becoming swords drawn.
Spell-work doesn’t require much,
that whisper from your throat
a dash of chaos..
that foolproof touch..
straws simply stir.. deliverance.
Straws are worms
wet them and whistle.
Bewitched,
they’re now throwing stars.
Elegiac harmonies
don’t mix well with warm weather.
Only a tambourine will gel,
a back up for it’s feisty sweat.
Straws simply stir.. deliverance.
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