Poetry. California Interest. Irresistible and ebullient as your Saturday plans look midweek, John Sakkis' MIRROR MAGIC is a reflective and necromantic gathering that gives back what it asks of a day lived both online and off the wall: 'please leave / this sweet light / and render me / phosphorescent tubeway splatter genome.' Sakkis' spunky challenge to the popular poetics of our time (stuffed armor or ardor) make me wonder what Cocteau might be up to in the 21st Century; maybe directing straight-to-VHS skater videos, scanning the Bay's convex parking bumpers for the myth of the perfect ollie. ''The millennium' is a confusing term / and you are a headless oracle mumbling / 'this generation shall not pass / directly or indirectly / into the abyss.' With grime and pop and savvy, these poems' tricks grind along the silver internet's omnipresences, a gleaming cube of instruction and wise-assed possibility. Enter here, into Sakkis' 'kinky time warp, ' a humid mirror where humor and found magic are the blades for the body to open through.--Andrew Peterson