The Rumzumzimmers

Those who dance normally choose
To do so on their feet.
The Rumzumzimmers feel they lose
Their connection to the beat
So they dance on their hearts
In an impossible art
Where mess and beauty meet.

They’re often off time
But time doesn’t matter,
Some call it a crime
As they make a great clatter
So they choose not to listen
Wholly on their own mission
And can’t be insulted or flattered.

The Rumzumzimmers also choose
To sing in a manner that maybe might
Be from a somewhat odder muse
As they pick a perilous fight
With song’s almighty tune,
They use their armpits to croon.
No one gets everything right.