Cross My Palm
(Tarot Noir)

© 1997 by M. Otis Beard. All Rights Reserved.

"Cross my palm," the sibyl said
To have your tarot dealt and read
The cards were shown to me:

The desperate saviour's scrape
Mudpuddle luck on the lake
Drastic measures now taken
Attract the attention of fate

This card is your basic mistake
It's tinged with a tincture of hate
An image of something forsaken
Wrapped up in a product of rape

Your next card is imminent fame
Made of things that you'll have to explain
A lifetime of constant complaining
And debt that can never be paid

You're feeding your people on pain
Too stubborn to burn out and fade
The blood on your hands leaves no staining
But more will be spilled in your name

Reversed, the nineteen of knives
Warning war between neighboring tribes
Safe passage bought by hard bribing
Betrayal in hidden designs

A snakepit of bad japes and jibes
Your paradigm shift realigns
A garbled transmission inciting
The snuffing of innocent lives

The ninth card of circles will pass
Three days before Mammon's main mast
In the desert, lewd visions and fasting
Rewind the temptations of trash


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