"Where'd he go?"
The audience a little worried,
the trunk unlocked, unchained
and displayed completely empty—
he must be in a hole under
the stage, slipped away.
Gone. But the Great Houdini
always came back, smiling
and bowing to loud acclaim.
We had strange faith, knew it
was just a complicated trick.
Yet when you tried it
it was too real—something
went wrong, you found yourself
a new dimension, a one-way
tunnel into a black mountain
of no return. You don't even
have an audience—well, a few
ferry tourists & school children
chewing grassblades,
reaching curious fingers
to touch your photo
on a glossy WANTED poster:
brown tuxedo, impish eyes,
elegant white scarf, pointy toes—
you look like him, you know.
So, where'd you go?
