Peter Chapman Poetry


it depends on how you live
when you understand something
and are sure you do

resist thinking you don't know

it is almost never good to evaluate a conviction,
yours or theirs

if you do crime you can know nothing
but your target then cook your heat
til the cruel comes out

if you use the blade to cut
you're wrong for the job;
it's made for sticking so you stick
and run, or stick alot alot alot
til the cruel stops and you cool

i typed switchblade then hit enter
to get mine from Italy, with a customs stamp
that said spoon, wrapped heavily in foil,
a button you press and hold tight and that blade

rocks out, ready for action,
no different than a bolt slammed down
in a gun, just you're closer, for the wet work

but when i get those bad guy thoughts
my knife's home in a drawer; i turn
the injury around and love the wound
i won't inflict, and the heat i save for later,
when i feel you doubting me or you,
sticking that worry in like you knew
what you were doing

over and over
no blood at all