Cutting Poem by Phil Soar

I sliced through my finger whilst cutting some meat
The blood poured down freely and fast
I fell in a heap, with the knife at my feet
And my finger fell close to my arse

I looked at that stump lying there on the floor
And knew I’d be useless without it
So I got out the glue, and my sliced finger to
And knew that I must set about it

It was then I passed out, and my breathing gave out
As the blood gathered down on the ground
And before I came round, our mongrel had found
Quite a meal and he’d chewed through the bone!