'The Visioning Process'

Crouched

in the cabinet where the magic is kept

with a spent magnet clenched
in one hand
and a bookbag full of contraband,

I bandage an old egg
I found in a ditch at the edge of town

to keep it from hatching too soon.

And I poke pinholes in it
to let it breathe
and through which to project images
on a thin screen,

an off-white sheet of muslin
that marries
my would-be success rates to the wall-paper.

but in the yellowy glow of egg-light
the graphs and animations
don't have quite the impact I would've liked,

and the space is too tight
behind these cramped cabinet doors
to really get a sense of it,

to make you understand at all.