This is a poem
to be etched
on a knife.

It does not deal
in wide scale acts.
The Statue of Liberty

will not be made to vanish
this way — this is instead
made for close-up menace.

This poem 
on this blade:
talisman upon talon

for intimate
self-defense. 
Can serve as well

as kitchen tool or
letter-opener,
freeing good news

or payment due message
from its envelope 
after a wipe-down from

the work of sustenance,
the chore of making do;
still, when gripped and swung

correctly in the 
right moment,
it can do enough

well enough. Even after
you are done this poem
shall hold enough blood

in its letters that it
will never forget when you had
no choice but to cut.

This is a poem
made to carry that
for you. Go then, eat,

then rest. You’ve done enough,
and well enough. You have time. 
You remain alive. You are still you.