New York Magic School

So I’m waiting in the Village to get a bagel
and the line is out the fucking door.
So I’m bored, right? Standing on a snowy sidewalk,
and so I look up, and see ‘em.
And I say to the chick next to me:
“Looks like the magician kids been at it again.”
And she looks too.
All kinds of rabbits, goats, and god knows what all
up there in the sky.
“These kids,” she says, “They shouldn’t set them so loose.”
See, there’s a magic school (real magic, not just for shows)
just down the street.
It’s on the same street that turns towards Central Park
and that first apartment with him,
with the tall windows
and the afternoon sun.
“It’s too fucking hot all the time,” he always said.
It guess it was. At least temperature-wise.
But we were learning then too,
and if we had studied magic,
we’d still be there today, I think.
And I could just conjure both him and my own goddamn bagel.

– Kay Winter

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