Step away from the table.
Back away slowly from the Tarot spread.
I’m done offering my take upon
the way the Hanged Man keeps coming up for you.
I can’t help it if you identify with him
and see my unwillingness to explain
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as proof of your martyrdom.
I can’t help it if you see this as
some grand conspiracy to make you
suffer. The way it really works is,
you take what you get. This
is a wildly impersonal world. I know
you want more assurance that it
vibrates on your behalf, but I can’t
do that. Truth is,
the corner on that card
is bent and I think somehow
you cut to it every time.
I can’t help it that you continually
choose to remain suspended.
All I can do is pull the deck
from your hands and tell you:
go home and stop coming here.
You are beginning to scare me
with your need for certainty
and you desire to find it this way,
and as lucrative as your desperation is,
there are some bags of silver even I cannot take.