The Southern Review, March 22nd, 2003
The Magician In the tent at the carnival, the magician showed us The woman's smiling head all by itself In a box on a table with nothing under it Except for the mirrors I knew all about. I'd learned about all his tricks. I understood How he linked and unlinked nickel-plated rings And changed the colors of silk handkerchiefs And made a dozen sponge balls disappear And reappear and multiply under cups. I was an insider. I was fourteen. I'd read all the books I could find about magic. I'd practiced sleight-of-hand and fooled my friends. The dozen other people who'd been wheedled And barked insid...
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