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Poetry


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In Which I Cut My Thumb

By Talisker

14 February 2007

Making bloody (literally!) sausage casserole. A good way to cure high blood pressure is the chopping off of a digit

A strange appendage is a thumb.
He stands apart from the fingers,
as though over proud, and yet,
he needs their help to
pick and pinch.

Alone, he can be suckled,
as an infant's comforter,
or gain a passing kindness,
for a hiker’s weary legs,
or say all is ok,
when words cannot be heard.

And I accuse him of strangeness!
Yet even strangeness is no reason,
for self mutilation!

I reach into the foamy basin,
with insufficient respect,
and it is he who suffers
Jack the knife’s keen bite.

Crimson billows rise,
as I dance the ancient,
native American thumb-dance,
suddenly discovering
my Iroquois tongue.

And Tom thumb has the final laugh.
Try applying a dressing
without his dextrous aid!

Oli 14/02/07

Reviews

Written by Bottleblondesurfer (3450 comments posted) 14th February 2007

You do make me laugh, Oli You and cut your thumb and your first reaction is to go and write a poem about it. When can we expect "An ode to a Scottish splinter" Of course there is not reason why not and you do it so well. Always nice to see a bit of humour in a poem
cheers
J

Written by Phil (6845 comments posted) 14th February 2007

Enjoyed this Oli. I was thinking about what BBS posted - and the world's your oyster. I have in mind a couple of titles but suspect they'd raise a few tuts from the Daily Mail reading members.

Phil.

Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 14th February 2007

Did this myself just the other day. But there's nothing exclusively Native American about that dance, Oli. I've seen it performed in a number of countries, always with the same up and down motion, the wrenched face, compressed lips and clenched fist.

Near perfect reasoning
Written by bwoz (125 comments posted) 14th February 2007

As a life-long mechanic, and mangler of thumbs and other appendages, I admire the truth in this. Especially the Native American thumb dance. For me it is my Crowe tongue that flies wild in those situations.

but I would say it is more the fingers that rely on the thumb for pinching....

Nice poem, got me to chuckle when I needed one.

BW

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