The picador in the corner

 

    In the corner near
    The standing lamp is
    A painting of a picador
    With arched back and up-thrust
    Arms just then ridden into place.
    What happens next, what we are
    Not allowed to see, is the

    Down-thrust of his lance
    Preparing the bull for eternity.
    Is it worthwhile now to
    Reach around and grasp
    A lance, ease it out if one
    Still has the strength, reach then
    For the other if there be two

    Or possibly three if one
    In one’s younger days
    Was especially fierce?  I let
    Mine hang, dragging along
    Behind upon the ground,
    Looking instead ahead 
    For the matador.