Blood of the Castrated Bull I
I was born under red candles and red spider lilies,
Mother’s eyes were dark and cold,
(frozen tar)
Like the starless night sky.
I don’t remember if her body was warm,
I don’t remember if I loved her she didn’t love me she allowed herself to go away
The candles went out in the dawn
Wrinkled women held me and passed me around
I was the center of the universe,
I wonder how my worth depleted so… swiftly
And by next nightfall, I was a lonely infant
The woman who raised me was traditional;
Her face was ancient, yet an image of a beauty,
She raised me to move as grace,
And my worth was contingent on my appearance
I knew nothing if it was not feminine,
If my aunt was a color, she would be a rosy pink,
A pretty
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but the taste in my mouth is condemned to be bitter
He was the nicest man I have ever known,
Kind to his students,
Eager to help,
Happy to help,
His eyes always lingered towards me and he would always pick on me to answer
I relished in being his favorite student,
He made me feel, in the first time in my short life, that I was special Living up to standard Something to be proud of
On a Tuesday afternoon, it was raining, I learned I hate the rain that day The noise is suffocating
My friend was sick for a few days and I was walking alone to and from school
I didn’t mind it until it was raining and I forgot my umbrella, something he would never do
As all the children left, he looked at me and offered to help
I believed in him; he was my elder, he was my teacher and he was dependable
He took out his umbrella and took me by the hands after asking where I lived
As we walked, I told him I lived in the other direction, but he continued on his path
I refused to fear him, until it was too late
My naiveté shed, but it was too late
My mouth opened, too late
I was too late,
And my teacher relished the moment
With his cold hands
My hair was wet and stuck to my face, shielding me from having to look at him
I was humiliated from being
special person. He had been watching us for a long time and was ready to
He was the type of guy who, if he believed strongly enough, did not abandon his
It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner. “Joe,” my father hollered up the stairs, “it’s for you. It’s Jackie and she sounds upset .” As I came down stairs to pick up the phone, I was not happy. I was tired and had looked forward to a nice evening at home, not another stupid adventure with Jackie.
pile against his chest. Then he sat back and looked at the water with bright excited eyes.”
he started to tell me, and I felt as if asking why he caused the storm
believed he could teach me himself. My father is very intelligent and innovative. He taught me
the one person I could always turn to, and when I lost him my life changed
like it was in slow motion. He put his hand around my insanely big muscles and quickly
After we left it started to rain a lot even with lighting strikes and thunder bolts.
We were both excited and probably a little nervous to see him again, so my friend turned into the driveway. We each had wide grins on our faces, while we debated whether or not to actually get down and ring his doorbell. I don't know what we were afraid of, but the conversation for about a minute, went along the lines of, "No you go. No you go . . . ."
I got off of him and watched him walk to the bathroom, “the kids are at my mom’s, she’ll take them to school”.
in a lift. He asked you if you wanted to have some fun that night.
He pointed out to me the little house inhabited by him and his fellow Belgians, and I promised to go and see him at an early date. Then he raised his hat with a flourish to Cynthia, and we drove away.
feet. He invited me to the table and asked what I was doing in here. I
I met Mr. "G." He made me understand that I was not going as far as I was capable of