“Levitation or LOVE”

This night is magic;
Because I did not hike Aurora
to the discovery that man cannot fly—
like the dove, beneath my hat I hide.
This night is magic
because here I am, still;
Not stranded on the bridge;
Not crippled by the splash;
Not even folded up
like a tuxedo coat,
stuffed into luggage
that sinks, wrinkle free,
beneath the roaring bathtub— I lay my body in.
Yes, this night is magic—
and so many that came before,
because here I am, still,
betraying an illusion that even I buy into.
Here I am, still—
dropping letters like loaded dice—
and betting the farm without a 401K.
Yes. Yes. Here I am, halfway down the page.
But most of me?
Is still tucked up
inside her sleeve,
waiting to get out;
Waiting for her trick
that proves magic does not exist;
The night that all my cards spill out from the wrists
to trickle down into darker waters.
That night will be my last show on Earth—
Unless I mess up
to be brought back by the wave
of a strobing red and white wand.

narrative poem written on 11-07-2010 by: on mattkane.com
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