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no part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights. Contact:

The Magician said,
“Write me a spell.”
Said I,
“Good or evil—
For Heaven
Or for Hell?”
“Serve I whom,
One still High
One who fell?”
Would help expedite me—
Pray whom,
Pray not, tell.”

Of course
I got no answer,
A code—
Magicians never say,
So began to write
Right and wrong
In arbitrary way—
My purpose,
Less for spell
And more
For writer’s abysmal pay,
Often been a dancer,
Let words slip—slide
As they may;

And then
As though my mind
Or by hand
Thus far unseen,
A Scrabble strewn before me,
Letters staunch and lean,
Gladiators prepped for battle,
Lions from the cage
Hunger pangs
Sharpened fangs
Starved into a rage.

Strength they found
Were words,
And gathered themselves
To and fro,
As magicians know
But never tell,
Coming to poets,
For the greater spell.