This Poem Is Psychic

If you hold this poem up to the light, it can tell you the latitude and longitude of where you happen to be standing. If you put it under your pillow it will interpret your dreams. It contends everything can be known, just beneath the surface— roll back the canvas, put your ear to it like a shell. It says: A black horse means death, a white one redemption. It is concerned with processes that seem to be outside physical and natural laws. To speak to the dead this poem uses a special oracle from The Dream Book of Charms and Superstitions. This poem likes to quote from the Russian, an old text, "Now a man newly dead would really know. And the poet would bear witness to that knowledge, if only he could work out the way of getting it." This poem sees a long hall plastered with Post-it notes that all begin, "Don't forget." In a past life, this poem believes, it was the narrative text of Sherlock Holmes. This poem claims in this life it was born in the Peter O'Toole Suite of the Chelsea Hotel. It says this psychic reading may cause it to bleed ink, that it is an orphan, its mother a lyric, its father a narrative. It detects irregular heartbeats in the same way cats detect earthquakes. This poem is psychic because before I wrote it, it told me I would write it. It detects an empty vehicle by the side of Interstate I-95. This poem knows I'm easily spooked by the accidental, the psychological. It wants to wedge itself between me and everyone else. This poem warns of a dark time, filled with medics and greedy relatives. This poem once told me: He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. This poem says a heart weighing 290 grams. This poem contends that when money goes missing it usually means three things: sex, booze, gambling. This poem claims it once helped a financially desperate Willy Loman make a sale. The truth is this poem can actually feel your heart sitting heavy in the chest wondering if it made the right decisions, loved the right loves rightly, left the wrong ones deftly. This poem says: I am a door but do not turn the knob clockwise. The fact is, this poem can predict the exact date when lilacs will bloom, when certain people will get special powers or wreck families. It says: Dial 1-800-F-O-R-T-U-N-E for only 99 cents per minute. This poem is psychic because it tells you where the next clue in the mystery is—look to the next poem. It says: This poem can crack all family secrets. This poem looks in my eyes and says, Let's begin.