Chance: Six More From a Tarot

This entry is part 7 of 13 in the series Chance: A Poetic Tarot



Dear mannequin,
you wear your red-
sashed burlap tunic
with aplomb.


What time is it
when the soul
calls out in its
loudest voice?


Dear honeyed
skein of years,
dear seasons
of salt and fog.


We pass from one
encumbrance to another
while the radio
plays a waltz.


And all night,
bonfires burn
like sacrifices laid
along the road.


The wheel that turns
is not on anyone’s
side: beer and goat meat
today, burnt toast tomorrow.


In response to Via Negativa: Book of Martyrs.

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