No sleep Day 1 on the Dogon calendar
My lips are crackers, while my swollen tongue tastes but harmattan dust
These are Dog Days: rabid dogs slobber with spastic tongues;
Sweltering fevers chainreact, glowing as they foam with delirious drivel
The radio's picked up transmissions from HR2491,
When tuned in at the ritual pulse - I could smell how it melted into Nommo's ether
"Puisque vous savez si bien ce qui est hors de vous,
Sans doute vous savez encore mieux ce qui est en dedans"
("Micromégas", Voltaire) - our inside is drawn towards the outside
Patterns emerge
At the Bandiagara cliffs, a native swung at ropes he charmed into a DNA-like coil,
Before he plunged into the spirit world
The Nommos, the griot said,
Will revisit us in human mould to channel the passage of souls to the white dwarf orbiting it's star!
The Dama dance, Youdiou
The Kanaga masks breathed
Their geometric pageant made me forget the crude hands that cut them
Like a sketch can still exude it's original genius
The stilts walked the dancers to their earthly apex,
Their lithe bodies mechanically oscillating, as if it were their last dance
Sigui, Yougo Dogorou
The olaburu of the Awa-society must know that the 'random' accidents tie in with an overwhelming cadence
Butterflies in a cosmic storm Imina-Na is everywhere
Little do they know that their superstitions have sprung from a source much deeper,
Though dead to the world Satellites in a cosmic storm
The serpent is everywhere
Let me devour the flesh and the blood of your wisdom
For a moment I felt the lightness of being and binary vision;
I am the sigu tolo of the orbiting eyes gazing in amazement
The inside and the outside on the perilous fringe
These are Dog Days: rabid dogs slobber with spastic tongues
Sweltering fevers chainreact, glowing as they foam with delirious drivel