Gedicht
Randall Mann
STRAIGHT RAZOR
STRAIGHT RAZOR
STRAIGHT RAZOR
He slid the stiff blade up to my ear:Oh, fear,
this should have been thirst, a cheapening act.
But I lacked,
as usual, the crucial disbelief. Sticky, cold,
a billfold
wet in my mouth, wrists bound by his belt,
I felt
like the boy in a briny night pool, he who found
the drowned
body, yet still somehow swam with an unknown joy.
That boy.
© 2010, Randall Mann
From: Poetry, Vol. 196, No. 1, April
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
From: Poetry, Vol. 196, No. 1, April
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
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STRAIGHT RAZOR
He slid the stiff blade up to my ear:Oh, fear,
this should have been thirst, a cheapening act.
But I lacked,
as usual, the crucial disbelief. Sticky, cold,
a billfold
wet in my mouth, wrists bound by his belt,
I felt
like the boy in a briny night pool, he who found
the drowned
body, yet still somehow swam with an unknown joy.
That boy.
From: Poetry, Vol. 196, No. 1, April
STRAIGHT RAZOR
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