Oh, my poor, broken kitchen shears. After 25+ years of hard time, the central bolt just rusted into dust.
I’d like to eulogize my kitchen workhorse with a poem.
By Christianne Balk
This division must end.
Again I’m forced to amputate
the chicken’s limb; slit the joint,
clip the heart, snip wing from back,
strip fat from flesh, separate
everything from itself. I’m used,
thrown down by unknown hands,
by cowards who can’t bear to do
the constant severing. Open and close!
Open and close. I work and never tell.
Though mostly made of mouth, I have no voice,
no legs. My arms are bent, immobile
pinions gripped by strangers. I fear
the grudge things must hold.
I slice rose from bush, skin from muscle,
head from carrot, root from lettuce,
tail from fish. I break the bone.
What if they join against me,
uncouple me, throw away one-half,
or hide my slashed eye? Or worse,
what if I never die? What I fear
most is being caught, then rusted rigid,
punished like a prehistoric
bird, fossilized, and changed
into a winged lizard, trapped while clawing
air, stuck in stone with open beak.
from Bindweed, 1985; Macmillan Press. Copyright 2001 by Christianne Balk.
All rights reserved. Reproduced with permission
Christianne Balk’s books include Desiring Flight (Purdue University Press) and Bindweed (Macmillan Press, Walt Whitman Award) where “The Kitchen Shears Speak” first appeared. Christianne’s poems have also been published in The Atlantic Monthly, Alhambra Poetry Calendar, Cirque, Prairie Schooner, The New Republic, and other journals and anthologies. See christiannebalk.com.
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I use these come apart shears. They are fantastic!
http://www.amazon.com/Wusthof-5558-1-Come-Apart-Kitchen-Shears/dp/B0000631ZM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1342999312&sr=8-1&keywords=come+apart+kitchen+shears
Penny,
Thanks! Those do look good. I have a new pair of shears, from Cutco. http://www.cutco.com/products/product.jsp?itemGroup=77 I really love them, and am writing another post about what to do with your kitchen shears. Stay tuned!
sorry, I’d be lost w/o mine
TRAGIC
Get a new bolt, you dolt! (don’t hate me—it rhymed!)
Adair,
I hate you! 🙂
Perfect!
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