“Gop kin deaune” or
“The frog is eating the moon”
According to ancient Lao tradition.
Beyond our borders, it’s just a
predictable eclipse.
Carl Sagan would hate our demon-haunted
world.
Sagan has no use for the Lao Sung shaman
near Phonsavan
Who panics when signs suggest Gop Nyai’s
return
Because certain stars are right and dreams
are strange.
If our legends are true,
Somewhere, between Champassak and Luang
Prabang
Hidden deep in a primordial cavern near
the Mekong
He slumbers,
An ancient entity ever dreaming
hungrily,
An anuran astrovore, devouring stars and
celestial bodies.
Perhaps he thinks to gain precious
immortality.
To free himself from bonds of earth and
mere reality.
Each time might be the last time, if not
for humanity
Doing everything to dissuade fearsome
frog ambition.
Towering above our lush jungles and hard
mountains,
He’s selfish with his lunar appetites, an
inconsiderate titan.
His true spawn are terrible to behold,
hungry for man
In indifferent corners best left unknown.
He’s cowardly, despite his size, but
over centuries
Not a single solution has put a final end to him.
Not a single solution has put a final end to him.
So, men, women and children keep
watching the skies,
Laughing nervously, trying not to take anything
for granted.
Living
loud and proud, to protect the cosmos, just in case.
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