Irony

The law-abiding crave
the spoken crudeness
of the Magians.
They sneak away
to the towers
or seek in shadows
the secret shops
and chambers
of the poets,
who wear crow feathers
and dance on one foot
or the other
to the beat of the drum.
The ones who speak
the magic words
enjamb the emphasis
at the most inopportune time
and place secrets
in sleeping ears,
awakening the sibilance
of the silence
in their shadowed stance.