Never Purchase a Preowned Crystal Ball

and never, ever one
from an ex

learn

from my mistake
and you will not suffer the pratfalls I have

you see

post breakup
I was looking for a better way
to weed out the chaff and murine waste
from the typical dating pool
so as to make the whole process more efficient
and way less trial and

horror

after all, there's only so many times
you can go out with giddy anticipation
then return home with

nothing

but dejection, disillusion and drugs
you have to take for two damn weeks
without missing a dose

or else

and that's not taking into account
the dates I had to abandon
before appetizers were served
before menus were presented

because

the field mouse called his mother more than once
the megalosaurus had to insist he wasn't a bigot more than twice
the boar made a pass at the server more than thrice

times twice

and, after taking my hand and looking deep into my eyes
the silver fox crooned

         you're not my usual type
         and once you turn 30

                   ew

         I'll have to put you to pasture
         then drive away to find someone

                   new

         but tonight, in my sick tight truck
         I'm so down to, like, righteously

                   do you

apologies for this protracted anecdotal detour
but I felt I had to offer an excuse
no matter how derisory
as to why I violated the very advice

I now offer

          no matter the throws of despair
          in which you find yourself
          never approach your ex
          then ask to buy or borrow

          his crystal ball

as high priestess of this community's coven
as my most honored witness

you WILL regret it

* * *
why?

crystal balls carry powers of spirits
who last moved among us during the time of our

awakening

          that fateful day
          when one of our kind knelt down
          to drink from a secluded river
          and saw something more than

                    their reflection|noitcelfer rieht

          staring back at, deep into
          their aura

and though those spirits have long since left our realm
it was learned they can be conjured
for a price, penance, pancreatic parenchyma, or

purple carrot

via enchanted crystalline spheres
but unbeknownst to most, once a sphere activates
it imprints upon the heritor

who

first gazes into it
first communes with the Ancient One
first sacrifices a fifth of their soul

then

binds all subsequent diviners
not only to the wills of every previous seer
but also to the overarching will of the Ancient One

so

if that first heritor is
someone as thoroughly dense as my ex
or, if my ex is the fool bound to a bitter occultist
via a crystal ball he stole from that occultist's shop
or, if the Ancient One is none other than

Scortor

- an ass of an orbal spook, if ever there was -
you can see why I warn you
as I do

please

enough with the rolled eyes and exaggerated sighs
no matter what you think of me
neither discount nor discard my advice
for it will spare you from doing
what I'm obliged to take leave of you
and now do

          drive the occultist and her cats to the air-port

          help my ex move all my favorite former things
          into his new home with his newest of newbies love

          go to my final 6-hour back tattoo session
          (Scortor on a surf board upon a wave of flames)

          do all of the above while dressed in Jets gear

and all because

I was the fool who woke up one day
and decided the best way to deal
with a bad breakup was to

purchase a preowned crystal ball

Raised in Vegas then exiled to Chicago, S. T. Eleu has been a musician, teacher, and consummate Vulcan. Autism is their default universe, and though sparsely populated, is a glorious place to escape to, write in, and display an impressive collection of action figures.

Find more by S. T. Eleu in the Author Index.