I can always feel the shifts.
The 8 of Wands
on the 8th day
of the 8th month,
for 27 years.
Did I mention my lucky number is 8?
I cannot hide the fire
that drives me.
It is lustful and all encompassing.
It smolders and burns
and when it hits the oxygen
curls into the night sky
reaches into the atmosphere.
It is wild and untamed.
It is desperate for release,
as am I.
It wants to take the city whole.
I don’t talk to you anymore.
I still get your songs stuck in my head sometimes.
We’re still above the bar
smoking Camel Blue’s
taking gravity bongs in honor of it all.
Let it live
entangled in the carpet
or yellow on the walls.
I still see sunrise smoke rings hovering above
and think of you.
I will be the ground you walk on.
Steady and true
When you get dizzy
You can lay your head down
And pour all your tears onto me
I will use them to grow a tree for you
You don’t have to get up;
I will cover you with moss and ivy
Let you sleep it off for the next couple decades.
When you awake
You will be softer than you once were
Cool to the touch
So when you try again
You may lay your head on me once more
and I will protect you.
I will continue to bloom trees in honor of you
Something new will be birthed
Because of you
You see, they think our tears are our weakness
They do not know
We are Earth
I threw out Temperance in a large white garbage bag.
The Hanged Man jumped in.
I held the flower flag of Death
and waited for them to be crushed,
but Temperance had other plans.
She slit open the bag from the inside
and all the trash spilled out with her.
Filthy, she ran into the woods.
The Hanged Man remained blissfully at rest
in his dirty tomb.
I was Death
and searched for skulls on the dirt road.
We’ll take a sailboat to Norway,
so the pets can come along.
I’ll paint the front door red
Look for hawks in the sky
Walk around the lake in the clouds.
I want to taste the mist each morning
and eat the stars at night.
We will rule ourselves
and follow the old ways
of the old gods.
The dictator will rot
in his golden tower
across the sea.