It seems that the old-time "magic show" is experiencing something of a renaissance, especially in the visual mass media. Even so, I doubt its fundamental attraction will alter one iota. The gap between acclaim and scorn is still wafer-thin.

 

The Illusionist

 

Pay attention, dear reader, and I'll weave a magic vein,

where rabbits live in top hats and assistants float in air,

where ladies change to tigers and handcuffs don't restrain,

and there has to be a reason for the madness of my stare;

but I'll never disappoint because

I'm never, ever … there.

 

Yes, I'm your friendly sorcerer, and I deal in deeds perceived;

no reasoning can hold me, no alchemy ionize.

Please tell me when you see me, believe in make-believe,

and don't be fear'd of visions, for they'll tell you only lies;

since all I'll do is disappear

before your eyes.

 

I'm a fraudster and a faker, yes, you knew it all along:

how I love to see confusion, doubt, and disbelief

when I fly, and when I'm – gone!

The art is in the timing, the flash of reality's thief,

as I deceive and then convince you

that the devil's on the hoof.

 

But like you I'm just a fragile thing,

for me the living's hard:

I'll take a coin from behind your ear (you'll never see it coming)

but I know just where you're looking, and why you missed that card ...

Yes, the magic's in the sleight of hand,

The rhythm of its drumming, drumming ….

 

 

Chris Hubbard

Perth

2016