The bread knife is large and it’s heavy,
listening to a podcast mention Woody
Allen and Mia Farrow and another
open letter, I am attempting to cut
the cumbersome loaf of sourdough for toast
when I slip and slice my ring finger.
Look, I have almost cut it off. How would I
wear my wedding ring, then? Luckily,
it didn’t happen. Much blood, et cetera.
Lisa Brockwell lives on a rural property near Byron Bay, New South Wales, with her husband and young son. She was runner-up in the University of Canberra Vice-Chancellor’s International Poetry Prize in 2015. Her first collection, Earth Girls (Pitt Street Poetry 2016), was commended in the Anne Elder Award. www.lisabrockwell.com