Soupsound Poem by Neil Crawford

The thrum of traditional Indian drums
puts me in mind of boiling mud,
the kind you see in nature films
in the midst of gushing geysers.

The whuuup, falluuup, gooo,
bloopiddy bup sound
that threatens to drag you down
into miasmic soup.

And after all, isn't that what the drums do? .
As the drummers compete to send us into
rhythmic trance, only they take us up and up
and uppiddy, Uppidy, UPpiddy, UPPiddy...

UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! ! ! !