| Now we’re inside the hat trick | What? You say I’m stuck up a magician’s sweaty sleeve, packed with flowers, a bunny, and silk? |
| I thought a hat trick was in sports. | Performing the nifty magic of being a man — are those roses or a crown of thorns? A fancy red hanky or was I coughing up blood? Is that my lucky rabbit’s foot or road-kill? |
| Three wickets, three goals, three strikes. | Maybe I’m a fire-eater, but you wanted a mind-reader. |
| What on earth is a wicket? | If I hold out a rope to the audience, slit its bight, do I slip the noose? |
| And why are they sticky? | Ouch, I cut to the high card, it’s a suicide king. |
| This is mixing metaphors. | Magician’s rent their doves. I thought you needed to know that. |
| I am confused. | Yes, that is the trick. |
| What is the narrative? | Let’s do the escape thing at the bottom of a tank of water. Or Everclear. |
| How does this tell us about men? | Dressed in my best flak jacket tuxedo. Either I undo the shackles or drown. |
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qbit 
I enjoyed the unexpected format, and the conversational tone. Very cool.
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Thanks for putting up with my experiments!
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And then there is the Gordie Howe hat trick: a goal, an assist, and a fight!
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God, that would have been perfect. How did it not think of that!
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I think this is a wonderful poem all by itself:
” Dressed in my best flak jacket tuxedo. Either I undo the shackles or drown.”
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Thank you!!
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Your poems are magic in themselves Qbit! Your mixing of metaphors is the best! Sorry I was so late getting here!
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Thank you!!
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The magical Q strikes again! Brilliant formatting in this.
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Lolol!
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thinking about one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer. and the time I saw George Thorogood open for J Geils and the Stones at Candlestick Park, in the rain in 1981, and he blew them the F out of the stadium. that was a manscape for ya.
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