Out on the Porch

With practiced ease, Bob takes his sharpened blade
and presses it against Jack’s auburn skin.
He says that there’s no need to be afraid
as cut by cut turns to a grisly grin.
Bob thinks he sees some terror in Jack’s eyes
as he continues cutting with his knife;
but wonders briefly if it’s just a guise
to help Jack through his transitory life.
Bob doffs Jack’s hat and sets it to the side,
then strikes a match and revels in the flame.
He smiles and feels a sense of eerie pride
in knowing Jack will never be the same.
Out on the porch, Jack sits in solitude;
alone, alone at last, he’ll sit and brood.

© 2018 Mark Vincent
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