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.