Ghost Production

At those places where an object known to be lost is desired a ghost is produced. The tentative, partial fulfillment of an unrealizable wish; the residue the process of mourning deposits as a fine chemical dust over all the objects in our mother's and grandmother's living rooms: melancholia. These ghosts consistently fail to speak in a language we can readily comprehend. Of course they know we want something from them. After all we have called them into being for — apparently — a specific purpose. Still they refuse to tell us why we have conjured them. Instead they just go about their business. It seems our ghosts are not pure, they are caught in their own webs of desire. So our ghosts have ghosts.

Is this why there is so little grace in our imaginings? Will we be left alone with our dwindling bank accounts and the taste of metal at the root of the tongue?