(The Hanged Man, upright)

Standing at the waterfall, teetering

Towards the edge

It thunders around your shins so loud you can’t hear the raucous laugher

Of the gods some ways behind you

Placing bets

How soon will you fall? Will you

Slip?

Will you jump?

Peering over, you realize you can’t see the bottom

The cards flutter and shift in the half-light

Spades and hearts

Wands and swords

The slender fingers of the dealer flit

And flourish, pale shadows across fake velvet

When you pick up your hand, all but one is blank

(The Hanged Man, upright)

And when you look up, the dealer has no face

It’s raining, or it was raining

The pavement smells like it anyway

Your lighter strikes easily in the damp

To your left you hear your name, and you twist

To look, but you are alone

Your flame goes out

The eyes of the world watch you descend

Down the stairs into oblivion

A sharp oblivion, with teeth