Ride a broom?
You’ve been watching too much video,
You’re not well read, and
not an ounce of sense in that head.
 
Ride a broom?
You’re as crazy as a loon.
Please excuse me while I laugh.
I don’t mean to be rude nor impolite.
Clue me in to your mental process.
Think: for hours on end and worse?
Buffeted by wind and noise and rain?
On a broom?                         A curse!
 
Folding time and space, my dear.
That’s how we get from there to here.
Pure physics, beyond your ken no doubt.
But on a broom?
Here, grab this one make yourself useful.
Sweep this room.
 
Here’s one secret, I’ll let it out
No need to scream or shout about.
We all have brooms to our clean house.
However…
Each BROOM is coded to each one of us,
Individually, genetically, matched… as a glove.
How else would we, could we, from generation to generation,
time, back then, to now? Think those facts through my love.
 
This broom you see, you touch, to sum:
 innocuous, hidden, and,… a tool of many uses.
Coded to allow the folding of time and space, it is
with the other arts, here to you… I will unfold.
Ride a broom?
I’d rather… kiss a toad.