Switchblade, machete hanging in the garage, forgotten
elements of a life long lived,
treasures of my father,
not to be touched, moved,
rusty old things, guaranteed to necessitate
a tetanus shot.
I never listened.
blood gushing from my fingertip,
No loud crashes
just the quiet aftermath
ignored phone calls
sent to those who determine IF and WHEN
they choose to respond
cutting, slashing with indifference
reaching out and nothing.
Checking my cell phone every half hour
on the hour.
the bacterial disease of disdain
Renee Williams is a retired English professor, who has written for Of Rust and Glass, Alien Buddha Press and the New Verse News.