‘How do you think he died’
‘Does it matter’
‘No’
Golden grains falling out my maw
Bones unburied in time for a Sahara sunrise
Yes, yes, I whisper through the sand,
Touch my nuchal crest and let me face the sky
Look at my maxilla, my teeth worn like yours, you
hear me say as-salamu alaykum, the first
Man-ape mistaken for man speaking to you
Mumbling peace from the miocene
With my too large brow ridge you think makes me look prayerful
Eventually they will call me Toumai
A hope of life in a desert
But back in my day I was fruit-munching-oasis-tanning-soaking-up-the-rays
Clambering back into leaves, leopards interrupt my evening dinner
Now I am Sadiq of the Sahel
A friend on the shores of a lake as dry as my bones
Today, I am ready to be resurrected a second time
The First Man in Mecca
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