Conversation With the Magician’s Rabbit (revision)

[Todd]

I always appreciate your comments. Even when they're along the lines of: I'm mystified as to your bizarre arbitrary choice here.

In this case, it was a favorable response. Either way, I always feel I get helpful comments.

Thanks for the walk through of your responses. Its very helpful to see that progression as I consider editing (which again is usually a pretty slow process with me).

Thank you again for taking the time.

Best,

Todd

Revision
I just know I like this from the first line. This will be a biassed crit. PS I have been away..have you been elevated in rank? Are congrats in order? Should I go away again?
You see what you think
is a grifter's sleight,

the Red Queen creased
by the hand of God.Brilliantly confusing opening which forces a reread. Did you see what you think you didn't see? Works for me

As if I were some shiny coin
to pluck from behind a child's ear. slight technical issue with "to pluck" . Past tense "were" begs for "plucked". Picky.

Instead like a long-eared manx in a box, I waitcomma after "instead" but then fine. I just keep seeing the quantum finalties, not as dead or alive, but as with or without a tail
(in two states) for the saw's rasp of quantum certainty. great stuff. Envious

The universe is 182 cubic centimeters,
cold silk, brimmed, and oscillating with heat death.entropic heat death which oscillates gives a great feeling of the total breakdown of accepted normalities. The hat image will last until the end.........of this poem and time. Superb imagery. If you are not offended, as simple as it can be...but no simpler.

Your stories give us watches.
We are late, ever late.
Even this is perception.

I speak a mystery;
there is no hat.Grounded perfectly on planet Alice. This is good stuff, todd. It is surreal metaphysics with you in the mix. Still puzzled by the stanza breaks but feel that you have thought them through much more thoroughly in this piece than usual.
Best,
tectak

Original

You see what you think
is the Red Queen creased
by the hand of God.

You look to his hands
expecting
a grifter's sleight.

I am not some shiny coin
to pluck from behind an ear.
I am like the cat in the box
(in two states) waiting
for quantum certainty.

The universe is cold
silk and brimmed
with heat death.

Your stories give us watches.
We are late, ever late.
Even this is perception.

I speak a mystery;
there is no hat.