Maybe Therapy

by Kumari de Silva

Playing with the Ouiji board
spelled trouble. Gave shape
gave voice to demons hitherto
unrealized. An incubus broke
across the threshold demanding
corporate benefits: vision plan
401k, stalking angrily out of
ether staining our imaginations.

“I’m not playing!” He threatened.
Ok, maybe therapy; could restore
common ground. We exchanged
our feelings. “Look,” he implored,
“Try to be reasonable. It starts
with an ‘f’ ends with a ‘k’ it’s
no guarantee for retirement, just
a new way to screw with people.”