Waltzing Matilda

If I give a name to the things I carry
I can take them, dancing

Styrofoam beads that cling to my skin
Eyelashes I shed, and hairs,
Brushed crumbs from my breast after lunch
And always the pilling of my dress

Attend them into a pile together
And wrap neatly with, say, a handkerchief
Or a dinner napkin
And then take a shoelace, if one is convenient,
(floss or floral wire otherwise)
to secure the matter

And a stick--don't forget the stick
It doesn't have to be grand or straight

Throwaway things, or ingredients for voodoo,
Or food for mice and moths
Wrapped, tied, carried cozy

Take me dancing, Matilda.
Carry me in a thundershirt around with you
So I feel the sway unbraid my hair

Anthropomorphize me
(I hardly feel human)
And I'll dance with you