Issue 160, Winter 2001
The world knows as a vessel of light,
By what cruel trick or Asian sorcery
I was sucked our of this life like smoke
Into that bronze flume, then knocked about
To serve some adolescent fantasy,
Borne down and upstairs, up and down б
In a poor boy's hand. Sightless, I was aware
Of jewels glowing on trees in a dim cavern,
His desire, the mansion, the king's daughter.
And my magic would fetch him all of this,
Though I must be the blind slave co his master,
Free only to serve, benighted otherwise.