The Bulls of New York City
Here they come
like charging yellow bulls.
The traffic signal sways in
the winter wind like a matador’s red cape
in the Spanish fighting ring.
The yellow bulls see red
and they power back and then lurch
I see them charge towards my position
one short block away. I thought I
could beat the burst of the yellow bulls
as I crossed Third Avenue at
32nd Street, but I misjudged their speed
and determination and lack of mercy
towards pedestrians crossing avenues in between reds.
The bulls here are serious and on the hunt,
corralled on all sides, not by fence or barbed wire
but by rushing rivers and gushing Atlantic tides.
From where I sit I see bulls,
ceaselessly circling.
like charging yellow bulls.
The traffic signal sways in
the winter wind like a matador’s red cape
in the Spanish fighting ring.
The yellow bulls see red
and they power back and then lurch
I see them charge towards my position
one short block away. I thought I
could beat the burst of the yellow bulls
as I crossed Third Avenue at
32nd Street, but I misjudged their speed
and determination and lack of mercy
towards pedestrians crossing avenues in between reds.
The bulls here are serious and on the hunt,
corralled on all sides, not by fence or barbed wire
but by rushing rivers and gushing Atlantic tides.
From where I sit I see bulls,
ceaselessly circling.
© Michael Domino 2007
by Michael Domino
Third Avenue
Manhattan, NY
January 21, 2008
Manhattan, NY
January 21, 2008
Denis Proulx / Shangri-La Studio