Spanish Bullfighter
like a hot iron upon the palm
i bullmark blackened charcoal
to paper, searing each line as i write.
the ring of a coffee mug on my journal
turns pencil to spear coffee imprint
to dusty hoofprint....
and i am as a spanish matador cursing
the majesty of the great beast.
with its last threshold of a breath
in the pastures of praise, percing
its side with a number 2 pencil.
so gently in it's ashen shore of flesh
i die a little too....
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
