I feel you
cunningly drumming from the inside out
with your tiny sticks and snare.
John Phillip Sousa would be proud
to have you march on and on.
Glory, glory, hallelujah.
You seem to never sleep, and instead
practice specialty Street Fighter 2 Turbo moves.
Down/ Down, Back/ Back, Kick
You must be some sort of super hero
or a mighty Indian warrior.
I can feel you, Hiawatha,
sitting in your wigwam made of cells and blood
drumming on the belly ceiling.