The Sharpest Knife in the World

The picture came in a box
I took it out and hung it
The box went to the backyard
Where it blew around
Till I gotta knife
From the basement
Took it outside
Where the wind blew
Like a bastard
I wrestled with the box
Put a half-nelson on it
Till it finally broke loose
And stood there glaring at me
So I waltzed it into the garage
Away from the stupid polar-ice cap wind
And sliced it into a million pieces
Thinking:
"What happens if I cut myself
By mistake?"
I tried not thinking about that
And hauled what was left
Of the box
To the dumpster
Still thinking about what my hands
Would look like
Then went back inside
To look at the picture I hung
It was deceased
It would be nice to give it
A proper burial
A box would come in handy
Right about now but
There was blood everywhere.


--Paul Smith