by Jason Visconti

The Idiot

He goes into a spell of stupor then casts it,
the magician is missing the honorable accent of his hat,
stupidity is the trick no cape conceals as secret,
the encore has a stage that shows him flat,
the audience curses the curtain when it lifts.


The Genius 

The jewel of his mind is captain of currency,
may the exchange show the wealth of the idea,
solutions are a mob crowd in his territory,
logic gives our mishaps the sign it's near,
the error of our hearts is solved and sorry.


The Athlete

Our bodies cannot plead the proper pose,
we are mistaken our every turn,
our symphony of motions is curtain closed,
we play an instrument we cannot learn,
but the athlete has a score sheet he owns the notes.

Jason: I first discovered my love for poetry after losing my mother at a young age and needing a way to express myself. Decades later, it remains my passion.