12, 13, 14

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

acrossย the sea.


I’ve been dreaming of Russian winters,

rescue planes,

taking 6-hour flights

for 45-minute brunches,

to show people how much I care.

Dashing redย velvet ropes

for closed off areas

Grand marble staircases

Gathering troops

to hijack the castle

Waiting on snow

for the team to show up

and give me a ride

I have brunch plans in six hours.


Nancy and I missed the party. 

She wouldn’t budge. 

Losing a minute meant losing an hour. 

I’d look down at her watch 

(She doesn’t wear a watch) 

And another hour down the drain.

And another.

And another. 

I grew impatient and snatched her wrist.

The face cracked and she just laughed.

“Time doesn’t mean anything here Casey. Don’t you see?”

You should watch the sky and not the ground.