The Thief's Statement

She studied coincidence after her car
ran over Pastor Kris and a male surgeon
cut-off her hand tattooed with buttercups.
The Kris is a dagger that wards off demons.

Her ex-lover, uniformed at breakfast,
spread butter over cinnamon buns
with a Kukri - 'a Gurkha's parting gift'.
His jaundice eyes spoke of faded pages.

The notch near the grip of the Kukri
directs liquid away from the handle -
he'd acted Macbeth in a school play.
The Taliban bled his wrists in poppy fields.

Her ex-lover, a shaman in his head,
bequeathed an ancient
Kīla. 'Just in case.'
She bedded the blade on to saffron rice:
the malevolence of spirits fled.

A year into her studies she mapped
happenstance to a second-hand shop.
The window blazed a metallic gleam
of smiles: subtle, serrated, sweet.

She was too penniless to buy the Jujang,
a dagger that upheld the world's balance,
but hunger broke the glass, severed her hand.
By chance the owner was an ex-surgeon.

Many of life's perils
seem more terrifying
solely because they uncoil
at too relentless a pace.
For instance, consider Jack
[that fascinating "Ripper" chap]
who, one murky London night,
slits Esmeralda's throat
forcing blood to spatter prodigiously,
her shrill shriek aborted,
only a gurgle, as if to clear her pipes.
Now lets prolong that action,
giving the audience time to "adapt"
by letting Jack's infamous knife
initiate its arc
but only descend halfway to its mark
[On a nearby wall we see
   two discordant shadows hover;
   just ponder how easily they could be
   bosom friends or even lovers.]
Once again, the razor blade pares
the remaining span by half
[On such a cold night
   a pity Esmeralda didn't pin her collar tight.]
Still, doggedly, Jack's knife
slashes the intruding distance
by yet another half
[Should we (yawn) intercede
   or (yawn) simply let her bleed?]
And so, by halves, Jack's knife descends
ad infinitum... until..., well,
as we all know
his progression's limit,
our slayer must eventually succeed.
Still, protracting Jack's demented deed
takes away its bite:
and anyway, who's to say
Esmeralda's too prosaic life
wouldn't be much improved
by a keener edge?!"