Bonta's short poem circles a quiet irony: the more we try to save time, the less peace we find. The opening question asks where, "in the geography / of busy people's prayers," ease might be located. Prayer is usually a pause, a place of rest, yet here even prayers belong to busy people, as if stillness has been squeezed onto a schedule. The speaker seems to be searching a map and coming up empty.
Then comes the answer, or maybe the refusal: "I shall continue saving time / that self-razor." The odd phrase "self-razor" suggests that time-saving cuts at the self. Efficiency shaves away something personal, and the title, "Cutting back," plays on that double sense of trimming and wounding. The speaker sounds wry and a little resigned, almost aware of the trap but unable to step out. The mood is dry, thoughtful, and faintly uneasy, with the sharp image leaving a small sting after the gentle opening.