my mother the diviner predicts the future
from her old kentucky couch. “if your
cousin doesn’t stop fucking around, he’s
gonna wind up in jail.” “i told you not to
date that girl. i knew she’s trash first time
i set eyes on her.” “as soon as you move
north i’ll hardly hear from you, i just
know it,” as she’s always just known
everything about everyone, visions of
every outcome in every possible future
i wonder how hard it is for her to
reconcile being a Christian and a witch
judge and judged. how easy
it must be to read others palms. how hard
it must be to read her own with that
nail in way
