The Chopping Block

 

(The Time Machine by Robert Margetts)

www.robertmargetts.com

THE CHOPPING BLOCK

 

A blacksmith’s anvil,

An editor’s block,

The blade and the basket

Await the cock.

Steel meets the neck,

The hinge gives way—

Blood arcs bright

In a crimson spray.

To sever the spine,

To spill what must flow,

To purge the sickness

From stone below.

The calloused palm

Of a wanton hand

Stroked frail manhood,

A fragile command.

Slowly inching

Toward that crest,

Pulse upon pulse

In a tightening chest.

Flesh against flesh,

Friction fed,

A swelling crown

Of aching red.

Beneath the rise

Of the mushroomed hill,

Heat climbed higher,

Relentless still.

One final stroke—

A failing spurt.

A breath half-caught,

A fleeting hurt.

Soft talons closed

On withering might,

Clutching the last

Of fading fight.

And so it ended—

Not with a cry,

But in the hush

Where endings lie.

what does this poem mean?

To me, the guy is getting a helping hand on his little friend. LOL..

The poem opens with imagery of:

• an anvil

• a chopping block

• a blade

• a basket

This evokes a ritual execution — something final, irreversible, and solemn. But as the poem unfolds, it becomes clear that this “execution” is symbolic.

The second thread describes the fading of physical vitality — the weakening of the body, the collapse of strength, the end of a once‑powerful force. The two narratives mirror each other:

• the falling blade

• the failing body

• the severing of energy

• the quiet end

The poem uses the metaphor of execution to describe the end of potency, agency, or life force.