a crazy psychic on the corner of some piazza
told me that i extinguish fires with gasoline
and i couldn’t think of a more appropriate way
to describe my behavior.
so now the problem is not description,
well, he also said that i was murdered
several times in a few past lives here and there,
so maybe i’m just here to make the most of it
while my soul looks over my shoulder for me.
my judgment is coming, said the cards,
and the puffy bits by my index finger and thumb
say that i got the element of crazy,
and that i got intelligence but not wisdom,
and that i always pick the horse born for the rodeo,
and that my gut is always dead-on.
thank my lucky stars for my charm.