Will you be able, to make up a label? The tin is now full, there it sits on the table. You’re allowed, yes it’s true. If you try, I think you may do. Veggies don’t label themselves. So that’s a No-‘Word’-Do?

I fly without wings, Circles decide, Chasing the middle. A sharp little sting.

Some of us sit atop icebergs Some of us hold all your trash Some of us lean til we topple Some of us are paid in cash

a slippery cylinder in the deep blue, likely not the biggest fear for me or for you, though with its high voltages it likely should be, as it's capable of killing with electricity.

I'm a funny British man, I'm a lady's favourite button, I can come from a can, I can make your teeth rotten.