Maybe the little drummer boy showed up
because he was all that was left of all the
other kings’ horses and men. All the rest
killed in all the other wars kings drool over.
Maybe he arrived not so much to worship
as to gauge authority, to divine if this was
simply another college try by humanity
at peace on earth, or if maybe, just maybe
this, this was truly something other—
this, this was the one who could coo as
nations raged while milking his mother dry for
the forgotten tongue of goodwill t’ward men.
In trembling exhaustion the little boy drummed,
and the child smiled.