Ode to a Circlip

With apologies to Lizzie Browning..

How do I loath thee, let me count the ways

I loath thee to the depth and breadth and height
My fingers can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of the clip that pinged into space.

I loath thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, to fix a king-pin by candle-light.
I loath thee freely, as I strive for Right;
I loath thee purely, as I turn from Praise.
I loath with passion thy deceptively simple design
That belies the sheer bastardness of trying to put you to use.

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I loath thee with the ruby rich life blood I seemed to lose
From fingertips stabbed by circlip plier, I loath thee with the breath,
Sweat, tears, of all my life and, if God choose,
I shall but loath thee better after thy death.

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