nothing to sneeze at

its no coincidence that
I be pointing to my weapon
constantly
look, how sharp, how ready
to swing, with a back wind
even if it never swang before

its no coincidence that
I spend two hours each day
scraping at a stone
to maintain my pointy edge

its no coincidence that
stuff gets sliced around me
if I let my locus lapse
for even a minute
after all, we are contagious
hatchet hatchet