Gimme swill,
not one for smooth liquors,
I cannot fathom velvet.
Jigger me a burlap,
stir me a drink
in low thread counts,
course cottons and twill.
My throat itches for wool
and stiff denims. My throat
itches for loose weaves,
warped lazy on a loom,
distilled with a towel,
stiff on a rail in some
damp and arid bathroom.
Image: Thomas Thompson on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
Devon, a ‘swill’ of thought and words, drunk to an inebriation… staggering rhyme- perfection!
Thank you, Lance. I had a glass of cheap Chardonnay in hand when this came to mind.
D
You’re sincerely welcome, Devon. What better way to write…
Write with wine – edit with coffee!
Perfect!