[Y]oung Writers Project, an independent nonprofit based in Burlington, engages young people to write and use digital media to express themselves with clarity and power, and to gain confidence and skills for school, the workplace and life.
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A magician never reveals his secrets, maybe, but that doesn’t mean a clever observer won’t see through his façade anyway. This week, South Burlington poet Iris Robert channels an unmistakably punk-like persona in the frothing reclamation of self-autonomy over one who has wronged her.
Magician
By Iris Robert, 15, of South Burlington
Pick a card, any card.
Cheap tricks are your
specialty, anyway.
I’d like a disappearing act.
Maybe this time
I’ll know not to
wait for you to come back.
Maybe this time I
won’t search for you like a key –
the only lock you have is
somewhere down in
Hades’ land.
Show me your best poker face –
I’ll see the lies
creasing near your nose,
and maybe this time
I’ll know not to chase after
you on the pavement.
Pull a rabbit from your hat –
better yet, pull
an apology from your mouth.
It’s sealed,
possibly containing a typo.
Maybe this time
I’ll see that the worst thing
I can say is,
“Okay.”
So go on now,
do your tricks.
Find whatever you need
in the applause. Filter
out the boos.
Laugh, maybe. Smile to
yourself. Above all,
do whatever you do
that makes you
forget I was ever more
than a servant
to your tricks.
