Magic Act for Peace

Here, none of the animals thirst.

The roads are dust and all is gold.

Elephants pause along the road

and there are no whips, only top hats.

The blue man lays down with the sword swallower

on a patch of crispy brown grass.

On your birthday, there are no rashes.

Your skin does not burn when you touch poison oak.

Someone takes you by the hand, gestures

to the water. You climb into the boat