BY the shores of Kitcheegoome
CRAP was sold to matron lady
WHO felt kinship with the Injun
AND felt sad for extinct Bison
BUT her husband made fun of her
COME Here Squaw! he’d say! Why that cur
MOCKED her sense of social justice
WHEN the guests came he would insist
ON a greeting that poked fun of
NATIVE rhythms that she so loved:
HIYA-say-you’re looking-fancy!”

The stretched-skin drum is a little too Clive Barker for my tastes, but that’s just me.