Steel Drum

I watch the basket-carrier

Down lush trails.

My strap caked with dung,

Mallets from papayas.

We’re passing the palisades,

Into Copacabana.

I’ve seen the Congo

With cartoons like Mobutu

Dimples turn to rust below

Blood-soaked airplanes.

Twiddling thumbs in the darkness,

Black jungle women turn pale

Celebrating sweat and semen,

Pooling in my shells.

My thundering cavity,

Rattling someone’s love for lupus,

Fruit flies making beds,

In brains and other refuse.

Who is next to find,

This shimmering, whimpering,

Mutant can of sardines,

Once born by endless daiquiris,

Joy taken only in its( )

Outward appearance?

However I try,

You are always satisfied.

(Lights!)