Saturday, March 18, 2006

Faulty Props

(found this lying around the room. One of the time killers from math classes I think.)

A spell is cast in the air
What was the magic?
The book tells the story
Of another time; in another place
Of feverish lovers
In state of grace.
Or was it the smell of your sweat?
When your body refuses to wait…

The show ends,
Curtain drops
The magician complains
- Faulty props

Somebody calls; she wishes you well.
A friendly gesture! Isn’t that swell!
“Wasn’t much of anything.” – you say.
And your friend agrees.
“Good thing to cut it short.”
“Yea. This just wasn’t his day.”

No comments: