Ode to a bread knife

Hello friend

Remember me?

You should after taking a bite out of me.

For once you were the star of the show

Covered in blood, my flesh split in four.

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I find you now in the sink, all alone

Cast aside like a spent torch

The pizza is cut and you are left to rot

Or you would if steel could

But it cannot.

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It remains here, unmorphed

As it was in Teutoburg

As it was in Verdun

As it was in Borodino

As it does in Mariupol.

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You have quite the sordid ilk

Even if bread is what you were meant to rip

For a moment you rose above

And ripped me

Hope you enjoyed it old friend

And that you were sated

If only your cousins

Shared in that temperance.

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Recipe

Echoes