The Magic Words

The Magic Words

What one thing are you hoping
someone will tell you

to get every event to canter off
into labeled shelves,

miniature gumball machines and
thimbles into the right

compartments of a gridded shadow
box. The desert won’t

be cured because it isn’t ailing.
The cacti won’t die,

in fact, three new cacti have sprung
up just now in your

footprints. You know what you
are waiting to hear,

trapped in you like the light within
a closed refrigerator.