Houdini was an Aries like me. So was Charlie Chaplin.
Traditional straightjacket magic, magic of
A hop and fluster. I did not have magic—
Fire sign with no magic. I have no cape
With moons and shooting stars. Handcuffs
Stymie me. I cannot walk with my feet
Splayed. Yesterday, I sat on the porch Continue reading “April Magician”
Tag: magic
Merlin’s Last Art
The heart becomes the master after all
–Even with my first and last art
of fire—blazing or smoldering,
identity is not known.
Heart smothers the flame.
Water banishes it.
And the smoke rising
in the air and the weightless
ash that drifts into the trees
are someone else’s gifts.
I have slept through
the exchange.
–Shaun Perkins
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 