The Magic was Amazing
It felt me up.
And I was confused.
So I asked the sparrow with the broken wing,
“Why does magic feel so cold when it touches my skin?”
But all he said was, “Please turn the channel to a new episode,
this corner of despair is taken.”
I laughed because the cold started
scratching down the middle of my back.
“Can you hear that?” a voice from the dark asked.
“Hear what?”
“The sad silly song I’m playing down your spine.”
I closed my eyes and listened.
Sure enough, I heard it–
something like the whispers in between
a mummer and a whimper.
“Is that what magic sounds like?” I asked.
The voice from the dark just sniffed at my question.
“Are you deciding if it smells good enough to answer?” I teased.
Then the chill got colder. I felt my limbs tighten until I fell
stiff as a soup spoon onto the floor.
All around me the sniffing sound, the cold getting colder,
but I started to feel warmer and warmer,
“Until the cold will burn you away,” said the voice.
All I could find the strength to say was, “Thank you.”
Which I guess was the magic word that broke
the magic cold that bound me,
and I sat up in my bed
and looked at the cage where Charlie the sparrow
sat on his perch, and heard,
“Looks like this time you have blood in your tears," so I say,
"you’re getting close to the truth."
.jpg)
David Calogero Centorbi is a writer that in the 90's earned an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Arizona. Now, he is writing and working in Detroit, MI.
It felt me up.
And I was confused.
So I asked the sparrow with the broken wing,
“Why does magic feel so cold when it touches my skin?”
But all he said was, “Please turn the channel to a new episode,
this corner of despair is taken.”
I laughed because the cold started
scratching down the middle of my back.
“Can you hear that?” a voice from the dark asked.
“Hear what?”
“The sad silly song I’m playing down your spine.”
I closed my eyes and listened.
Sure enough, I heard it–
something like the whispers in between
a mummer and a whimper.
“Is that what magic sounds like?” I asked.
The voice from the dark just sniffed at my question.
“Are you deciding if it smells good enough to answer?” I teased.
Then the chill got colder. I felt my limbs tighten until I fell
stiff as a soup spoon onto the floor.
All around me the sniffing sound, the cold getting colder,
but I started to feel warmer and warmer,
“Until the cold will burn you away,” said the voice.
All I could find the strength to say was, “Thank you.”
Which I guess was the magic word that broke
the magic cold that bound me,
and I sat up in my bed
and looked at the cage where Charlie the sparrow
sat on his perch, and heard,
“Looks like this time you have blood in your tears," so I say,
"you’re getting close to the truth."
.jpg)
David Calogero Centorbi is a writer that in the 90's earned an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Arizona. Now, he is writing and working in Detroit, MI.
He is the author of Landscapes of You and Me, (AlienBuddha Press.)
AFTER FALLING INTO DISARRAY (Daily Drunk Press)
He can be found here on Twitter: @DavidCaCentorbi.
Blog: davidcentorbi.blogspot.com
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