Carrezando Poem by Wayne James

The mood is such tonight
That talk of touch
Is seen or heard as inappropriate
And yet, as I write, my ears hear my own child gently caress the keys of a Japanese keyboard
And John Williams' Jurassic Park theme rise
through the house

On this evening,
After I have sought solace
By searching for memories of meaning others have seemingly forgotten:
The caress of a baby
Or of one's own child

One where speaking of the caress of a calculator
Is as innocent as holding ones own child
And bottle-feeding it
With no possible hint of sexualisation
Just, simply, calming it and soothing it
And abating the tears:
Simple, gentle, love

Rather than slapping or poking or shouting
To get 'the thing' to work
In its final, or first, or any, moments

Just treating it well - such that it does not leave,
Like an dying relative,
when the time comes,
with the wrong impression.

For a calculator, when the tracing paper and clock say it is time for *that* exam,
will always need to be 'on' to work
And the preceding verb? Choose carefully.
Especially if you have just advised someone to be gentle with it:
Rather than slap, or poke or grouse at it
Because it won't, or can't, work for you:
because
simply
it has run out of energy.