Dance of the Ruptured Drum || Olumide Manuel

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Image Credit: Paul Campbell

Dance of the Ruptured Drum

by Olumide Manuel

[Editor's Choice]



a dragonfly laps the riverskin of a future owed, it quakes & dances from a tearsong of ripple effect. all that the drum says is— a twig breaks as a country does. bronze-bells cannon the king's square. dwarves' feet gather. again, the drumsticks are pretending to be firewood. I join the reverie with teeth stained with stale protests. at the roothairs of a furious hurricane, there is a butterfly stuck in reverse metamorphosis. its voice as thick as the lace of its wings, chaos rebecoming as it beats. all this time, i have minimized the might of a clear voice, of a tiny crack on a waterpot, of one turnback from assault, of the music made by a single drumstick, all beating against the grand scheme of foul noise. & this realization is where the dance begins. drumsticks gather. the frustrations are shadows of dwarves’ feet, piling up the king's square. the kings had ruined many butterflies with lacewings of the country's prestige, now the last honour is in revolts.




Olumide Manuel is a poet, educator and an environmentalist. He is a 2x nominee of Pushcart award, a Best of Net nominee and the winner of the Ake Climate Change Poetry Prize 2022. He tweets @olu_midemanuel. 



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