(afterMark Doty)

Not, exactly, orange:
closer to pumpkin
molded intouncomfortable handles.

Contoured edges dig
into my thumb and pointerfinger
leaving indentations in my flesh.

A pin begs mercy from the twoblades
yelling for them to stop cutting
the endless reams of cardstock.

But the screaming is only
a noisy "squeak squeak"voiced
from the rusty piece of metal holding
the bladestogether.

What could bring those haughty
manufacturers to addcomfort
to those evil extensions of my hands?

Some brilliant idea
tomake these scissors at two ends
one end cutting paper
the other biting intomy flesh.