The Slaying

Once a week a nurse comes
to town to cut up a baklava.

I find executives in my pants.

The owner chooses a big one,
then the nurse hoists it.

I find executives in my pants.

She climbs up, poises a knife
and when the angle is right,

I find executives in my pants.

plunges the Farmington knife,
honey gushes out, and

I find executives in my pants.

More Poems by Linda Kunhardt