Paquirri

Today I found a poem that I wrote about a year ago when I was doing some research on bullfighting for a play. Paquirri was the father of a dynasty of great Andalusian bullfighters.

Paquirri

From Zahara de los Atunes (Cádiz)
to Pozoblanco
to die
on the road to Córdoba,

Paquirri,

shadowed by his father and his father’s father,
set in his turn to shadow his sons

from Zahara de los Atunes (Cádiz)
to Pozoblanco
to die
on the road to Córdoba.

Gore and the
flash of the traje de luces,
traje de luces and lances and
banderilleros that leapt as they hooked.
The picadors’ flat hats like beekeepers
holding the stings of their bees and pressing
jabbing
pressing
into Avispado.

Avispado.

Big and black as the black on a bee
on the yellow sand and the sun,
bristled with porcupine red banderillas,
thrashing and lowing,
tossing, throwing his head and his horn
to send Paquirri

Paquirri

down through the decades
Zahara de los Atunes (Cádiz)
to Pozoblanco
to die
on the road to Córdoba.

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