Bizarro
Folded in half and a thousand miles away
My inexact, inaccurate, imperfect twin
And as I try to make our houses close
So he’d scuttle about to run away
When christmas rolls, he’d send a coal
And a piece of burnt gold and humus
He never shows his face, except when at night
I dip my pen in ink and write
His face is outside my window, mouth contorted
His hand overwrites mine, inked in purple blood
My trash’d be full, he’d empty it for me
Burn all of them in my backyard
And ease a word, of length, of brevity
Slapping me into my writer’s integrity
———————-
CARD DRAWN:
- TWO OF CUPS
THIS IS THE TAROT CHALLENGE, a 78-day writing challenge where everyday I pick out a random card from my tarot deck and write something about, against, inspired by, based on the card by the day’s end. The works can range from poetry to fiction to drama. When the card is from the major arcana, the title of the work should be the card name. When the card is from the minor arcana, the title can be different but the card drawn should be revealed at the end.
