The Matador

Let's make something of you that
you've never been
never will be

Taking old bulls with crooked
hardened feet
and bloody cracked horns
the survivors of stampedes, storms
looking to thrust matadors

and

asking them to be sweet, baby teeth
grass-fed
gentle beasts

***

I was looking for a man who 
never huffed puffed
or tore a house down

I said:
No wolves or carnivores

Tony Sopranos, hermano!

Wife beater vests, strippers

No boys from Cerano!

Boys that gel their hair with
the wetness of my down south, oh!

***

Four thousand bloodbaths later
and through chipped teeth
the truth leaks:

”The easiest thing to do, Timea
is to make men out of monsters

and monsters out of men