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.