Archive for February 12th, 2018


February 12, 2018

There’s a knife
separated from me
by a square pane of glass
a shield
between customer and food prep
they use it for slicing citrus
cutting it in half
for the juicer
handle and blade
both painted yellow
but on the blade it’s worn away
steel exposed
limned in golden sunshine
it’s an arm’s length away
through the Liberty Safety tempered barrier
there is a work around
a passage that goes straight through
just to my right
there at my elbow
as I sip from the mug
the moment could come
a direct line
from me to the knife to the bathroom door
single occupancy with a lock
quick, make the move
get the knife
behind the counter
push past
“Out of the way”
open and close and locked inside
“You’ll need police
and a clean-up crew
I’m very sorry,”
and then pressure of the pointed tip
to the orange’s peal
into it, to the rind
the ripe giving flesh
and out the other side
all that juice wasted
freely spilled, strange
how I always so loathed
donating to the mosquito
the leech, the tick
their fair share
such a meager volume
of my ruby bounty
contained no more
come and get it
while it’s still warm