GOING IN STYLE
The boys in Mexican glassworks
Swing their blowpipes in parabolas
Like gauchos twirling riatas,
Eliciting form from incandescence.
Precise as ballet dancers,
They make their moves at intersecting
Routes, aware but casual,
Nothing between the flesh and the flame.
The boys in Mexican bullrings
Entice the dark charger with magenta capes
Like women flirting with handkerchiefs.
Their suggestive invitations
Invite a close encounter:
Nothing between the hip and the horn,
They dance a tango with destiny,
Teasing entropy into art.
Leave a Reply