THREE POEMS by ARIELLE TIPA

Tarot Cards on a Catholic School Playground

 

We shouldn’t be doing this –

making angel paths to open sewage holes, priest holes

 

laughing at

The Lovers and The Fool, debauching

near a fallen birds’ nest

amidst rain-ruined chalk suns

and the shadows of our skirts

 

bells ring loud as we leave The Hangman behind –

with arms outstretched, can hug an entire continent

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