Berimbau
—“Eu ja vivo enjoado” up to ‘quebra’—
O sopro é do vento
we keep moving sopro
and voice pass and later
and earlier chords always
take
a turn to the percussive
or if they stay it’s in service
of the beat of running
the percusion of meat
and bones cracking
dirt
and when we press
the chamber of the cabaça
seca against our stomachs
tighten the wire around its
neck
stretch it taut before
striking with our sticks we
run
clandestinos hiding in the
dark or light or stringing
wire
in streets full of tourists
or accompanying the
mouths
of gringo instructors
who go ginga ginga ginga
asking Angola or regional
singing
along with the radio
um pedaço de arame
um pedaço de pau de pé
in
Toque de Angola
Toque de São Bento
Pequeno Grande e de
Bimba Toque de Iuna we
follow
o compaço de aço
o compaço do passo
o compaço da culpa do
sol
After Nathaniel Mackey and Mestre Pastinha
Copyright © 2018 Ananda Lima. This poem originally appeared in Hayden’s Ferry Review. Used with permission of the author.