This sleight of hand
called life—

the wives
we make disappear

and children
we pull out of hats.

The parents who, over time,
we saw painlessly in half

and the complicated knots
that untie themselves.

The doves and serpents
pulled from Jehovah’s empty sleeve

to misdirect
the mischief of our making:

the compassion we feel
for a rag in the road

believing it to be
a squashed puppy.

Or the cock killed for Asclepius
to thank Houdini God,

our Chained Magician

in his locked box.



Image Credits: Fred

D.G. Geis

D.G. Geis is the author of 'Fire Sale' (Tupelo Press/Leapfolio) and 'Mockumentary' (Main Street Rag). Most recently, his poetry has appeared in the Irish Times, Chiron, Skylight 47 (Ireland), A New Ulster Review (N. Ireland), Crannog Magazine (Ireland), The Moth (ireland), The Galway Review (Ireland), Into the Void (Ireland), Poetry Scotland (Open Mouse), The Naugatuck River Review, The Tishman Review, Cleaver, and The New Guard. He was the winner of the 2017 Houghton and 2017 Emrys Prizes, and shortlisted for the 2017 Ballymaloe International Poetry Prize (Ireland). He divides his time between Galveston and the Hill Country of Central Texas.

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