The Michael Toy

Poems and Other Programmes


too much magic


there is magic in every direction

over there,
the black man with the rolled baseball cap,
wild piles of paper in front of him,
studying for something with a weary intensity

has changed in a blink

into a little asian girl with her pink pop up book
showing a bouquet of paper roses to her father
as he uncoils his headphones

i think of all the magic i have seen tonight.
i look up and suddenly,
empty chairs have turned into students
    hiding behind piles of books about technology.
blank screens are transformed into presentations,
    love letters and dissertations.
a pretzel and a bottle of sparkling water, vanishing in an instant.

and in one of these instants the little girl and her father are gone,
erased from existence leaving behind only empty chairs.

soon it will be my turn to leave and then
this whole place will vanish,
until the day i come back and sit,
try to ignore the magic all around me and write another poem.

Path: Metapoetry