The swallowed land
Master of situations, the famous spiritualist and magician
Appeared distracted, nevertheless
Is known to be the wickedest man in Europe
Contacts the dead, as efficient as the post office.
‘Are you a Medium?’
‘I’ve never had any complaints’.
His smile engages my attention.
‘Have I seen you before?’
He did not answer, gestured towards my face.
Here, said he,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor
(He has forgotten that he is reborn).
Here is the outer rim of the world, where the water falls perpetually;
The stars, reflected in a pool of hydrogen,
Here is the man with a tin heart, and here the chariot.
And this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries in his pocket
Which you are forbidden to see.
I see the two of us
Fighting on the airless surfaces of meteors
From out of the thunderhead he spoke,
‘I invoke Shango
His sacred number is Ten, and all numbers,
His symbol is the oshe axe, which represents swift justice
He perpetuates the human seed into the Milky Way
He is owner of the double-headed drums.’
And this card shows the paired lovers
Wound white and red, like the tape at a crime scene
Like the chirurgeon’s pole:
He who heals by cutting.
Fear loss of companions.
Fear your other half
Il ferait volontiers de la terre un débris
Et dans un bâillement avalerait le monde
He willingly makes debris of the Earth
And in his mouth he swallows everything.