Man With a Hammer

I heard once, “If all you have is a hammer,
everything looks like a nail.”
speaking of doctors—
of machines and meds pushed on them
by reps pushed by companies
pushed by shareholders (some of whom,
dare I say, may fund my retirement?).

I once only had a hammer—
a hammer’s no one-trick tool.
Sure, it hammers.
But it also pries,
props open doors,
lies beside me at night
ready to fend off attack.

It can crack a window—
or hold it open.
Bend metal.
Tenderize meat.
Crush ice.
Drive tent stakes.
Pop open paint cans.
Hang proud on a garage wall,
serve as a bookend—
or a bookmark,
depending on the book size.

So maybe nothing looks like a nail
when all you have is a hammer.
But the hammer—
the hammer looks like everything
you prize.