I want to be one of her patrons,
a soul who has wandered off the path in life,
who needs to be made new.
I hear them calling—
every minute, every hour,
every day, and every night.
She starts her sessions by asking
for simple things, a name and the day they were born.
That’s how she initiates her magic.
That’s how each discussion has begun.
She takes the letters,
grabs the numbers, and slices simplicity
by its throat.
She says six means
intuition that is born straight from
the heart. “Use it well,” she warns,
“Six can make you creative or
Now she matches what she’s said
for six for two, purring its
pure intuition. “Don’t fear
it,” she mutters. “Develop it.
Overcome obstacles from the heart or else
they’ll come back to haunt you.”
Next I peer as she takes out
the cards, and shuffles the deck
before telling her beloveds
of what’s to come in their futures
along with what occurred in lives past.
Then she ends it, snatching their contribution
through more numbers, to reward her
for her services. A dollar a minute
she charges for them to know
what’s going on. I want
to be just like her, until
my father picks me up. He hears
what I tell him, and calls her a fraud
for violating mankind’s thoughts.