Dana Gittings

those ancient drums
spur my flesh
to dance
in circles through
the shock of birth

they weave
like a drug
carving
through the blood
quaking
through the knees

they speak
with compulsion
sparking
a convulsion
straining
to take seed

they pulse
with every
spawning sound
seized in a fever
sown in the ground

they sprout
to sing out
and dance devout
to stand strong
to belong
in this shrieking song

they seek
to be found
to ring
to resound
in the meat
of these bones
where life

goes around
and around
and around