Ouija No Hands

This is a new invention,

With a simpler interface.

It not only names itself,

It will rapidly spell out

Its whole history for you—

Roman coins, Saxon abbey,

A martyr’s bury, as in

Burg, borough, not burial,

Louise, wine-merchant’s daughter,

Who, when little, called herself

Wee-da, later her penname,

Ouida, popular writer,

Her image in a locket

Worn by Helen Nosworthy

The night in 1890

Helen held a seance with

Her brother-in-law’s new game,

A talking board with planchette

He was meaning to patent,

During which the board was asked

What the board thought its name was,

And it then spelled out OUIJA,

Sort of matching the locket

And the author from Bury.

You never had to touch it,

Did you? Ideomotor

Effects be damned, this new board

Only requests that you ask

Whatever you want to know.

So far, it’s mastered the past,

And holds all your dead in it,

But it knows you really want

Prediction—working on that.