Lessons From Houdini

Poem By Eugene Ethelbert Miller

You practice disappearing
in front of a mirror. All your wife
can see is your face. Magic is how
your body vanished in bed. Once
you practiced with knives and hats.
The rabbit trick was a snap. Houdini
comes back from the dead to explain
how to escape from a trunk underwater.
He tells you to hide a divorce in your
marriage. Lean to pick the lock.
Tell yourself there are no chains.
Practice holding your breath. Count
the years. Surface through the pain.

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