Knot

in this

coarse

unspooling

fragrant

oily line of

twine

we call

our life

what is

this bulging

strangling

knot we

tie and twist

turn and tangle

that we weave

crook and wheel

hook then loop then

bow inward upon

ourself over and

over again

until

the moment when

we grok the

the purpose

of the blade

and grab the

cartoon scissors

from the hands

of fate

laugh

as we cut

free and

watch

the taut

snarl of string

fall into

the

empty

bin