Mark Borczon writes

THE FEET OF THE MATADOR

Swimming in

An abandoned

Steamer trunk

On my living room

Floor is the

Blood red mermaid

Of my daughter’s

Love

I am old

And she has

Aged around

Me like

A cape I use

To fight

Bulls that

Are in their

Prime

I have lost

Much to

Heartbreak

And vodka

To hard times

And lonely tears

To the sound of weeping

Reaching across

The city nights

Falling just short

Of my out stretched

Hands

But you must

Ignore the cape

And watch the

Feet of the

Matador

See them stand

True through

Six perfect

Veronicas

Two each for

My three

Perfect

Daughters

In this brutal

Dance with

Death that

I do always

Only for

Them

 

 La Matadora -- David Lozeau