the medium looks at you
askance, as if she knows
what you want to do
to certain persons who
are no longer with us.
but your money’s as good
as any other mark’s, so
she dials up the Ouija board,
fully expecting to be able
to phone it in, as usual.
she is surprised
when something other than
her foot knocks on the table,
and even more shocked
when she finds that
a spirit has broken the glass
and written a secret message
on the slip of paper
inside her special
sealed box:
"you should have
made your move
when we were both
still alive. now I’m just
ectoplasm and dust."
in the parlor of the medium’s home,
a lonely skeleton rattles
a thin thumb’s up.
for an instant the black
curtain lifts, and
the etheric veil flutters.
a pale shadow moves
in every corner of the room
at once, and a voice cries
wordlessly, quietly,
echoing the seagulls
wheeling endlessly overhead.
then you emerge blinking
into daylight, the spell
broken.
R. Brookes McKenzie 