Palmistry
By Tyson Yunkaporta
Published 13 August 2025
Amazing green aura the medium said
Rising out from me and above us all round
Radiant she held my hand and ancestors help me
I liked it
Don't stare at the lip ring don't!
Aaaah and the plastic bone through her pointy nose
And sweet breath from lemon scented gums
And hibiscus and honey and traps
My fingers spread dreamy like a cabbage fan
Palm to leaf through with maps and fortunes to discover
But she was troubled by a compendium of branches
Crackling out from lines of riotous creole
So shouting slow like a tourist she found the gist of a fate line
Terminating where X marked the spot of a knife-fight
The implied exit wound and stories underneath
The other side
Luring her down through layers beyond all
The sun-kissed butterflies and fluttering birdies up top
Toe rings dipping into the murk and recoiling as if bitten
Focus! The mystic's burden
The discipline of translating timelines
A life line? Crossing a love line? Will have to call my teacher
About that one (Nobody uses land lines any more)
And in horror she followed it where it should not be going
To the under-narrative slithering around the knuckle
Winding and spreading fractal across the dark side
I couldn't give her the back of my hand because she took it!
She explored and surveyed otherside networks of scars
Mycelia she called it all in the tones of a prophet
Then winced and tried to pull back
Too late
Absorbed in ant lines and dissolving carrion
And abandoned yams rotting undug
And whispering thickets unburned and littered with
Artifacts wildly etched with hieroglyphic traumas
Don't don't please Ow that catfish isn't dead Guard up
Your turn to bleed you bastard Rub some dirt on it
Clean that up or the purri man might find it Keep digging
Cheeky dog Swim faster that croc can smell the blood
These cuffs are really tight Don't cry in front of them
So that's what my bones look like Let go you bloody
That's what you get ay Not again Noooooooo
In for two out for four she tried to teach me how to breathe
And she rose above me again
An ascended master
Telling me I needed to let go of my anger
And that I had a very young soul
Then took my last fifty bucks
What’s your divination? Is it palmistry, tea leaves, tarot?
Or have you invented your own: bruiseomancy
streetlightmancy, footpathistry? Write a poem from the entrails.
Tyson Yunkaporta
#30in30 writing prompt
Poetry, done right, is not about naming ‘the thing’ but about pointing to the thing
without naming it. This is where Indigenous Worldview lives, in not naming or studying the thing, but the relationships and connections between the things
Poem Forest is a free nature writing program and prize that breathes life back into the natural world that sustains us. For every nature poem received, a tree is planted to help heal habitats and create a Poem Forest for future generations. Since 2021, over 22,800 poem trees have been planted.
Each year, we commission Australian writers to pen a new poem responding to the themes of Poem Forest. Tyson is one of three commissioned poets will also be our judging panel this year.
Entries for Poem Forest are now open, closing on Friday 26 September 2025.
