Thursday, December 2, 2010

Pretending There's No Such Thing as Pretending

The master illusionist takes the stage
Bringing along all the tools of the trade
And sets to dismantling the atmosphere
Plucking whole heartstrings in thin air
And showering the stage in colorful allusions
That birth optical illusions no one can resist
Shadows in the background go unnoticed
And they crawl beneath the stage like cockroaches
Ready to appear at the flick of a switch
The plot thickens when an audience member is called
To be an unwitting participant in his own demise
As mind is separated from body in a mastery of mirrors
That hide inner thoughts from even those
Tracing the image staring back at them with cautious glances
Like fingers on a phantom limb
The audience breathes together in anticipatory ecstasy
Like one giant mass of perplexity
Teetering on the edges of stained red seats
That can barely contain their weight
And creak under the heavy load
Constantly threatening to snap but never taking action
And two halves of a whole roll to opposite sides of the stage
Cast off and forgotten without interruption
It all looks like quantum mechanics
With parts here and there and everywhere
Seen and unseen, dead and alive
Except for the rabbit just tossed aside
Pulled from the hat already in a state of rigor mortis
Asphyxiated on bolts of silk
And stiff with too much love in too little space
But the show must go on, above all else
A six foot coffin filled with water
Is wheeled into the light
And in climbs another volunteer without proper instruction
The audience gasps as he struggles to breathe
In his see-through prison, unable to cast off his chains
The curtain falls just in time to cover the final scene
And his body is flushed out to sea
Like an unwanted fetus
Before it had the chance to beg for death
At the end of a .38 Smith and Wesson
Ratings go through the roof
As human misery is clouded over
In gentle words of encouragement
That flood over the masses
In euphoric waves of dread
Reminding them to be thankful for the lives they lead
In a time of such chaos and pandemonium
Mortality is dangled on a silver string before them
And the world's greatest magicians
Levitate above the crowd at 45° angles
With arms spread crucifixion-style
To remind them of their true saviors
That lurk through the aisles in search of the next victim
To fall prey to his own deceitful eyes

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