Prestidigitator in my pocket,
show me a card trick.
The Ace of Spades is in my hand;
how can you know
that was the card I chose?
Illusionist in my eyes,
conceal from view this urban sprawl.
With bold strokes of your magic wand,
black plumes become white clouds;
parking lots turn to prairies,
gutters to refreshing springs,
skyscrapers to redwoods,
and my heart turns
from fiberglass to flesh.
Enchanter in my mind,
conjure up a mist for me.
Recite the incantation:
All is as it should be.
Make me forget I spied that ace
up the magician’s sleeve.
January 2002
Askmi Leitr 