With a twist or a spear, I’m chilled and bring cheer. Dirty or not, my friend Rossi may join- But too much of him, and things go dry at the joint. Sip too quick, and you’ll hit the floor, Drink it slow, and feel the chill pour.

I start all trouble, End all comfort, question kings. I’m a single sound, Yet open endless doors. Ask me once, and nothing sleeps.

It is not a musical symbol as it looks, but a conjunction And per se and

I speak without words, Point true while you spin in doubt. I love no one place, Yet swear by north alone. Trust me, and you’ll be found.

I’m winter’s dodgeball, cold, round, and launched with intent.