Death in the afternoon

I wrote this poem after I saw a video, recounting the horrific cruelty made against bulls: multi mini-spears inserted into their torso, fireworks attached to horns. This angry poem attempts to speak up for the emasculated bulls of Spain…

 

I pity your plaintive bellowing

from dungeon-dark prison echoing,

your toro ton-weight electrocuted,

slowly, cruelly to be executed;

what awful, absurd theatre

– cruelty the main feature,

drunken crowds, harmless creature.

 

O titanic toro! charging provacteur’s cape,

this circular hell you cannot escape;

horns shaved, co-ordination a-kilter

taunted by mocking lance-tilters;

weary, stigmata-stabbed, confused;

upheld tradition is a riseable ruse,

animal rights seasonally refused.

 

Fiesta trumpets jocularly mock,

sober people should take stock,

animated inebriates unfairly jeer

goading on your primal fear:

blood-gargled your plaintive cry,

terrified eyes plead, mercy denied –

this bull for Spanish sadists died….

 

But where your creator now –

back on farm with calf and cow?

Flagged blades decorate your spine,

kneeling sacrifice, majesty supine;

last gasp whispers, silver cord snapped,

sword thrust: conquered, capped;

dead beast dragged, arena clapped.

 

Blood graffitti curdles on hot sand

mutely crying for justice to stand;

does Franco slyly smile, dry-eyed?

Indifferent Iberia, justice denied

except by contrarian Catalan

bull-baiting there under a ban;

Prou!” states Bible and Quran….

TORO

Animal rights activists in Spanish Catalonia gathered signatures to force the regional parliament to debate a ban on bull-fighting.They campaigned under the platform “Prou!”, or, “Enough!” in Catalan.

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