the fight with a tree

Do not be angry at the tree,

for when its branch falls

on thee.

____________

But when I am hit,

struck violently,

so my axe does fall,

heavily,

straight through that fucking tree.

____________

Bulls strike Barrera;

that dark engulfing fence —

my red hands apuntillar.

They face me down,

I know, I never should be.

____________

I float off

damn that fight

and that lying Bodhisattva.

But I am not sorry for swearing.

I see the stumps miles below,

the cold space takes me;

if only I could have made peace,

a truce,

with a harmless honest tree.