Magicians prestidigitations awe
And mystify. How do they do it? How?
Their slight of hand and misdirection
Convinces us that what we see is real.
A woman disappears and is replaced
By someone sitting in the audience,
And I can never figure how it’s done.
But I have tricks Houdini couldn’t match.
Come take a closer look. I wave my arms.
Recite a magic word or phrase. Today
I think I’ll use “Quotidian”!
I could have used Svengali, applesauce,
Or since the wind is blowing from the south,
Calliope. It doesn’t matter what I say.
It only matters that I wave my arms
And chant. Imagination does the rest.
There’s elephants in tutus beating drums.
Tyrannosaurus Rex appears and sings,
“A wandering minstrel I, a thing of shreds
and patches.” Hummingbirds are dragon sized,
and Baba Yaga is delightful, kind,
and generous to everyone she meets.
Convinced? If not I’ll simply raise my arms
A second time and whisper, “Cascarets’
Cathartic,” and the world as you know it
Will undergo a cataclysmic change.