deepundergroundpoetry.com
I Like Mine, Hot and Black....
The tea,
you filthy minded figs....
Whatever did you think, I meant?
Of course , the tea---and it must be black
to bring out the grainy luster
in my wood floors
when I wash them with it.
Ten tea bags in a hot water bucket,
makes for a steaming scorpion bowl,
mop-ready,
that'll strip off layers of disgust, and
years of neglect
before the polish goes on.
(It also works, just spiffy, to age fabric ,
with that vintage tea stained look)
I pour a separate cup for myself, though
so that I might sip, as
I ponder, why the tea-wash
is one of the only useful
(and completely truthful )
things, my Mother ever imparted on me.
My floors do look fantastic.
you filthy minded figs....
Whatever did you think, I meant?
Of course , the tea---and it must be black
to bring out the grainy luster
in my wood floors
when I wash them with it.
Ten tea bags in a hot water bucket,
makes for a steaming scorpion bowl,
mop-ready,
that'll strip off layers of disgust, and
years of neglect
before the polish goes on.
(It also works, just spiffy, to age fabric ,
with that vintage tea stained look)
I pour a separate cup for myself, though
so that I might sip, as
I ponder, why the tea-wash
is one of the only useful
(and completely truthful )
things, my Mother ever imparted on me.
My floors do look fantastic.
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