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The Slaying

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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.

Source: Poetry (May 2010)

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This poem originally appeared in the May 2010 issue of Poetry magazine

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The Slaying

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