The Switchblade
An edge is sharp
in that it separates
what should be
kept whole.
Imitation pearl
handle with brass
fittings. Italian
made. Seventies
vintage. He might've
got it out on a training
exercise, my mother
says of my father
who was stationed
in Bavaria at the time
and who the knife
belonged to — who I
inherited it from,
I should say. But what
kind of thing is this
to inherit — that she hid
in a dresser for years
to keep out of my hands,
that clicks into place
at the press of a button
so firm it takes actual
intention to cause
the spring to unlatch
and the blade jarringly
flicks around so fast
it seems I’m suddenly
holding something
other than what I was
a second ago — unsure
what I wanted out of
opening it. ‘B’ stamped
there on the neck
of the blade in the mirror
finish, followed by
'Rostfrei' — meaning
rust free — that is
stainless steel.