Friday, June 15, 2012

smoke and mirrors


And now ladies and gentlemen for your
amusement and dining pleasure  
I will attempt to make myself
reappear on this very stage with help
from my lovely assistant,

her winning smile and plunging décolletage
distracting you just long enough
to allow me to fold myself into
a waiting hack and lie across the back
seat in the small pool of light cast

by the stage door flood, illuminating
the face of the driver, eyes widening
ever so slightly, his nearly
imperceptible nod a cue as if to say
“I know the way”; the entire exchange

conducted in near silence with one  
or two quick hand gestures created
whole cloth, tires humming an old lullaby
while I work out a plan, wont to tamp down
a sudden yen for a short glass of kefir

while the applause swells and fades to a
smattering of the faithful and you make
for the doors in pairs, the houselights up,
remarking perhaps on the cool night air,
suspended disbelief dissolving like smoke. 

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