Can Opener by Liz Snader
That grotesque thingy that must have slid
Directly out of Jupiter’s Rings.
It resembles nothing I’ve ever seen
And nothing a nun would ever wear
As
jewelry.
As you grasp it between your fingers and palm,
As you twist, grind, and rip open a metal can,
It is impossible to imagine who created this thingy:
Its round gears,
Like you eyes
Are bright, shiny, and piercing.
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Fork
This strange thing must have crept
Right out of hell.
It resembles a bird’s foot
Worn around the cannibal’s neck.
As you hold it in your hand,
As you stab with it into a piece of meat,
It is possible to imagine the rest of the bird:
Its head which like your fist
Is large, bald, beakless, and blind.
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