Ode to a Ka-Bar Knife
by Victor Aguilar

There is only one I can count on in times of strife,
Resting quietly in your sheath, I won't disturb you,
I'll let you repose; sleep, until I'm ready to take a life.

Oh my Ka-Bar!  You are the essence of my life force,
Cold and hard and sharp; you have purity of purpose,
To those you encounter; it's certain death, of course.

"Give me yo money, bitch, o you gonna die!" says the thief.
You strike like a serpent, plunging deep into his heart.
Ejaculation!  My pent-up lust is spent; what a relief!

"But I'm just a mugger, in the parking lots of malls."
"I know," I wonder why he tells me what is obvious.
"You didn't have to kill me!" the dying man bawls.

He falls.  Like a geyser, blood spurts out of his chest,
I watch, fascinated.  Each spurt is weaker and weaker,
Then it's over.  Oh my Ka-Bar!  You're the best!