The "beat"

Here I sit, just me and my huntin` dog.

Pounding this stick, on this old log.

Listening to the beat.

While we wait on the cooking meat.

What can I do with the skin from this butchered, hog.

I made an instrument, to play while I hum.

This thing I, made, I will call a drum.  

While I play, here the cave women come.

Into the light of the fire.

Their shape I sure do admire.

The way they began to move.

Made my heart damn near expire.

I will take the chance.

And say it only took one glance.

Now forever, I want to see her dance.

Until together, we do "retire"...

 

By J.D. Bardo

◄ THE KILLER beside me

The skin we are in. ►

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