POEM OF THE DAY BY JACKIE TREIBER

"Spa Psychic"

You will have a vision of your true love
in the fumes of toxic nail polish.
A child’s face will manifest
in a post-sauna mirage.
The glyph that eventually leads
you down a light path
will appear in a mud mask spread.
The pains of your future lost limb
will be transmuted in the hot rock
stone massage of now.
You are not your muscles--
but a cloud of impressions:
blue in the shade, violet when you lie
white when you’re being read.
No longer a Hanged Man--
spurred black boots on a wire
but a pre-life soldier
waiting in the hotsprings
of psychic disorder.


-Jackie Treiber