Trying to live without champagne bubbling
in my veins, without expectations that take
me away on flights of fancy, concentrating
on Wusthof Santuko knives that cut to the
bone, slippery sponge, right-hand forefinger
I felt something burning, saw red seeping
out - ran towards you with my hand held
out – the knife cut me, see it’s bleeding!
thick, like sponge, a deep cut, thick red
blood, you bandaged it well
When I bend or bump the finger, it hurts
like hell, here at work typing is making it
throb, I love that knife for what it can do
but now I respect it too – my throbbing
finger tells me all too well
It’s dangerous to play with knives…
I can endorse their advertisement:
“…the cutting edge of the knife is razor sharp
and also easy to resharpen”
*
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