In the Exquisite Luxury of Having Options

the bored magician
brought down the checkered flag
this race has gone on long enough
You
he pointed
are the winner
The rest of you
he pointed
also-rans
The crowd in the stands
puzzled
wondering what they were
scenery? sideshow? how dare he?
but the magician gave no indications
other than to drop the flag in the dust
disappear in a puff of smoke
mingled with the smell of racing fuel
and hot dogs from the concession stand
whose proprietor
considered himself the winner
with a considerable day’s takings
and besides
he had nothing to do with the race at all

It started to rain
everyone went home
crowded in their small underpowered cars
waiting in lines a mile long to get on the highway

The magician sat in his comfortable chair –
the commute to his living room
had taken no time at all of course –
feet up on a cushiony ottoman
reading a book
a bowl of potato chips by his side
the rain falling on the roof
the gutters full and a quiet gurgling
a mischievous laugh
impossible to tell
whether it came from
the drainpipe
or
the magician

11/7/19