Sewing Tea Bags

“What was ever wrong

With a strainer, Mum?”

Mum grins frying-pan wide

And taps her teeth. “No bitties in your gums.”


Pinch, pinch, a nasty pinch

Of crunchy, kelpy tea,

Hanged by the neck,

Yes by the neck, in a gauze sack.

Then three little stitches,

Just to be sure of no escapes.

This stitch nips back,

And the blood pearl drip- drops

Onto the tea sack.

Don’t tell anyone, bury the sack

Deep in the down of tea bags.

“What you doing, girl?

Such things are not for

Us to feel. Keep your hands

Where I can see ‘um.”


Later on, we’re scaling fish

And I stick my finger inside

Its gills, so I can feel the Soft



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