02 September, 2010

Hiawatha Drumming Poem

I feel you
cunningly drumming from the inside out
with your tiny sticks and snare.

Rat-tat-tat-tat!
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.