Wax Museum by Belle Randall
(Cover drawing by Luis Garcia)
A MAGICIAN
AMONG THE SPIRITS
From A Book of Psychic Exposés
I’m searched and bound,
handcuffed and locked
In the upside-down
Chinese Water Torture Cell
(Another form of the ubiquitous
ghost cabinet).
Here in the dark,
I work very hard,
Twisting and clocking
my magnificent torso,
Counting the bars
of spine-tingling music
So that when doors
are unlocked and I’m found
Gone,
all the knots and the locks
Are intact—
proving the music
Celestial.
YOU WERE
As phony as the accent of
Lola Montez with her lace mantilla
Dog-and pony act—“the spit curl
consort of kings—”
Imposteur! The great ballrooms
from which you fled
The gendarmes at dawn, the rattling
compartments
In which you hung your head
to let the black dye drip
Into the towel,
and always the terror
Of having to invent
on the spur of the moment, from scratch
Your God damned improbable
internationally acclaimed
Andalusian dance.