If I was a magician
I'll be perfectly poised like an Indian
Build castle in the air so I could live like a king
Dress like a rose on a sunset beach
Build bridges so I can touch things I could never reach

If I was a magician
I'll look like the pyramids of Egypt
I'll make ponds in the desert
I'll play the piano like Mozart

If I was a magician
I'll live, never to die again
I'll be young never to be old again
I'll sit on the skies and watch it rain again

If I was a magician
I'd make my father live again
I'll make my woes crush like grain
I'll wake up a beggar, always a prince forever

If I was a magician
I'll make it shower in joy
I'll make it thunder in the city of troy

If I was a magician
I'll make you my umbrella
So I'll smile anytime it storms

Written by
Joey Percival Ikechukwu

favored memories you face faded now in spaces
of black blank places those jostled touches of
colors of hosiery ******* hung on lines that last touch
with old fashioned  wooden clips
the **** and the ******* and the line taut
between  stretched the left and right  
where dogs roam wild and nothing is washed or hung out
those fineries hidden from view now with an Aqualung
tracing his flute and deep bass
around the inside your skull
as you dance on the park bench barking ferile
unkempt flea and louse ridden crazinesses
scratching your self like that terror  
you demonized
the memory you became of that same man
who said hello
to you so long ago
and wretch throw up
so much now
it does no good

I was
- so -
happy

just
to be

something like
a long-lost friend
incubating inside jokes
on just-pierced ****** tongues
muzzled formal flirting with hmm

more than anything else
I just want our talk

so right everything else
just left

behind

I would trade in all my *****
for more conversations
like that

it's like, there will always
be part of me that sees
and wants more

but the crux
of all that ****

why I finger locks
on fated gates
is because

our talk
is

best. thing. ever.

ranking
formerly dubbed awesome
alongside rigmarole

like, I prefer
talking at you over the wall
even if I know my airplanes
won't hit you quite when
or how I want them

that I know
those ears will hear

is better than
all comparisons
that I have
no more of

****

and often I think
we could just keep
talking forever

and I could
be happy

with
only that

I can't figure out
if I'm supposed to be
an oddball Eros-laced
poetic artist of sorts

this revolutionary
evolution redesigner
with wake-the-****-up
typographic punches

or a sower of seedlings
via silly rhymes scheming
with wacked-out visualizations
for story-time imaginations
to mold future generations

ideally,
I want to do all three...

praying for the mind
time and energy
to manifest all
I can
Be

(including
rocking the ****
outta this day job
that's molding me
into a better model
who knows how to float
merrily upon her dreams
obsoleting false me)

*happythankUmoreplease

smell like my Mags -
mad puppyish

steeped in sweet
unconditionals

I should probably
wash them
and her
soon

but I really
kinda like it

and also,
procrastinating

where i am
  the skin of   yesterday
an empty trellis—

and here
a slate cover
—over   nothing

not aware whom created the
list of the seven wonders
but my list were I
to compile would vary and differ
greatly

mine list would include
women

and the first look at your newborn

the rush of being charitable to a homeless man

stopping bullying

a dog's loyalty

a nighttime sky clear sparkled

a smile from anyone


and so I beg your patience
my list is the one I prefer
and i apologize to those who
created the original