Service For Sale Poem by Ima Ryma

Madame Antoinette was her name.
A psychic in neon light that
Was always there when home I came
To the family's upstairs flat.
I would watch visitors go in
And out of Madame Antoinette's,
Dif'rent sorts of women and men
Seeking a glimpse of coming yets.
It seemed so natural for me,
Growing up in a time and place
Where supernatural did be
Supplied for a fee, case by case.

Reading tarot cards on a palm,
Madame Antoinette was my Mom.