Untitled Poem

If your right hand makes you stumble, cut it off and throw it from you; for it is better for you to lose one of the parts of your body, than for your whole body to go into hell. (Matthew 5:30)


So, I’ve decided to cut off my right ring finger.

It doesn’t have a ring on it. Not terribly useful

since I’ve given up playing piano.


It’s not that big. Not that strong. Terribly infected.

It got nicked with an arrow, one of those remarks

carelessly thrown over the shoulder as someone walks away.


I noticed the black streaks first, knew the poison

of those words was seeping to the bone.

Soon it will reach the bloodstream


and I don’t want to lose my whole hand over this

certainly not consign my whole body to hell.

So. One swift blow. Pass the whiskey.


  1. Great poem!

  2. You have to know that my right ring finger is aching mightily at this moment. Wow – big punch to the gut right here. Sorry for the barbed remark and even sorrier for the sadness it brought. Please do not remove that lovely finger, however. :>)

  3. That’s gonna hurt. But it hurts worse to lose it all. You’ve got that cowboy grit kicking in, ready to do the hard thing that will save the rest of you.

    “right ring finger” is ringing in my head.

  4. sharp…

  5. Ouch!

    This reminds me of that Little House episode where Ma cuts her leg on rusty wire. It
    becomes infected while she’s home alone. She reads this scripture and picks up a knife.

    Sometimes maybe one does have to cut off a piece to save the whole…