Cereal killing

My bread-knife’s both benign and sharp,
the kindest of my tools unless you’re loaf;
the sweet one kneaded with a touch of love
and baked to wheatly glutinous perfection,
but its steel is crocodile. a mourning blade,
a menace carver for my daily sustenance.
I cutlass slices with you, my sweetest sickle
each ’serrated tooth biting crumbs before
I spread the butter slowly in the freshly
opened wheat wound. I slice the cheddar
cheese and lay it to its rest on the bare
flesh of my slaughtered bread, because
a murder is magic of ordinary breakfasts.

The blade of my bread knife

Today we should write about “the magic of ordinary things for Gina who hosts at dVerse. Join us when you want.

December 12, 2018

23 responses to “Cereal killing

  1. “Wheat wound” – great image. This has changed the way I think about my bread knife! We got some new knives for Christmas last year, and for a couple of months I was continually cutting my fingers, so I have a lot of respect for sharp knives. I like your semantic field of death and destruction.

  2. The title is brilliant! The ordinary things you line up here now are part of this scene from a play, a sacrifice, a murder weapon, a victim…totally delicious in execution! Forewarns us too, that ordinary can be powerful in a different way, depends on the hand and mind that wields this power. So really well done Bjorn, totally unexpected but spot on how an ordinary thing can wield its own magical force!

  3. Love your visual imagery, Bjorn, as you describe the toasted sandwich. I can picture it, within my mind. Darn you, I got the sudden craving to eat something before my dinner. Sigh.

  4. How wonderful to have you break down some fresh bread into a melodrama. You dive into the dark pungent side of things with ease,and I love it. I wish I could find so much poetic treasure in so few lines; per usual, my poem runs more than one page; smile.

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