A poem after meeting the gangireddu

The drummer drums
The piper pipes
We all stare
only at the bull
He only stares
at the piper.

The drumming reaches a frenzy
The piping reaches a fevered pitch
And the bull just looks on.

We give him money
We give him clothes
I don’t know whether it is to make them stop
or to make them walk away
They do neither,
and the bull just looks on.

Abruptly
I disengage
and walk away

It’s time for my next Zoom meeting.