Divination doesn’t take a day off, so I step in for Sadie,
sling tarot cards and decode loose tea in a tea cup.
The visitors who met me the first two days sometimes
called me by her name, as the sign says– it’s her tent
at Julietta Market and I spoke from beneath a facemask.
The next time will be Father’s Day and the day after Granddad’s birthday.
I insist that our fates are not from our fathers
and mothers, that we create our own.
All shall be revealed–
My grandmother unfurled the shapes in the tea pot at the restaurant
called Far East, while Granddad recited the same mock fortune
to us every time he opened his cookie: “Your charm and intelligence
are exceeded only by your good looks.”
Respectfully, I break my own rules about fate. I’ve coined a similar fortune:
it’s a good running gag and a great filter to determine if your company
humors you, loves you, and is listening after all.