bullfights
getting drunk
on a hotel bed
in spain
i turn on
the television
just as the matador
rams his
sword
through
the bull’s
shoulder blades
and into
its heart
hating hemingway
picasso
paintings
and humanity
i turn off
the television
knowing
that
there will
never be enough
wine
in the world
to wipe that one
out.
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2 comments:
nicely done.. one thing i have always enjoyed about your poetry is you take the reader on a short trip, then slap them in the face upon walking away..
much enjoyed..
(sidenote-did u rcv the email with the link where your words are?)
lynne...i did. i meant to email you back. so sorry. am trying to work out how to print the double-sided sheets. my printer at home is archaic.
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