a sort of love song

 

when I flex my thumb
it clicks definitively
not loudly so  
but enough to convince 
a gathering of believers 
at a seance perhaps
yet not quite powerful 
enough to summon up 
a manifestation of curious
cotton wool ectoplasm

even so 
believing is seeing 
and my clicks I’m sure 
might well persuade the gullible
that my ordinary self 
is in fact a medium 
and conversations 
with the departed 
are not miraculous 
but an every day event

if only I could believe
my own clicks 
I need never lose touch
with those particular ones
I’ve always loved 
and regretted losing 
as a Neil Diamond song says:
I’m a believer
I couldn’t leave her
If I tried

actually I couldn’t 
believe her if I tried 
and my thumb it’s turned out
is just a natural clicker

 

 

Jeff Cloves
montage: Claire Palmer

 

 

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