The sorcerer vanishes out the back door
Everyone looks. He chants spells as he goes.
Don’t do dumb shit and keep the damn screen closed!
The sorcerer vanishes flop-step down the path
Eye choosing weeds to later feed poison
Stubbing his toes on the corners of bricks
The sorcerer vanishes past the Crankum Gate
Into the Sheet Sanctum, a placid dark bright place
Where old Sun keeps his sweatiest grudges and
Sorcerer’s stroke signs point to peacement

Sorcerer’s spiders descend to menace the Gate
Custodial men without fathers or scruples
No one dares to twist the lock inside or out
For spindles and needles and netting and nod
He within hides under work’s nose, the sorcerer vanishes
Those without descend from order and love loudly
He within hides in the Sun’s black eye, the sorcerer vanishes
Those without knock-knock-knock for a powerful man
Everyone looks. The sorcerer vanishes.