The Drum Case

His magnifying glass studies knurled knobs,

imagining Vic Firth repetition,

with hands performing notes, though fingers throb

through unstoppable rhythmic precision.

A unison fortissimo attack

must have damaged the head of the timp-tom,

leaving particular dents with a thwack

of double paradiddles. Cause and symptom

rack his brain as his partner pours over

the pale skin vandalized with blood beading

across her breast. He ponders, moreover,

just how on earth this victim is bleeding

via drum stick. He speaks without caution,

“That’s rudimentary, my dear Watson.”