The poem begins like a stroll through a glittering city, but the glamour keeps turning dark. The sunset strip is "red at night like a plush coffin lid," and a cartoon heart stands in for "that dread word," which the poem never names. Judging by the imagery, the word is probably death, or perhaps love, and the speaker seems unable to say it plainly.
The magician's language suggests a way of coping. The speaker bends over the other person in a blazer and counts to ten, like a performer, or like someone watching over a person who has fallen. Hunger is tucked into a handkerchief and pulled back out among playing cards, as if deep need could be turned into a trick. The title, "Now You See It," hints at things vanishing and returning.
The ending is abrupt: "You learn to dig." After all the sleight of hand, the line feels blunt and earthy, and it may point toward a grave. The mood is eerie, playful on the surface, and quietly grieving underneath.