Secrets

Speak to me in tongues
as if love was forever lost
never to be found
in the dusts of earth
never to be uncovered by
men in funny hats
by women who dig to make up
for the men who don't
the children dig deep
I am a Matador
swing it to and fro
I bring up from
the graves of both
Hemmingway and Gardner
dance in a tango
found to hold beat on a
cobblestone street
where children run across to door ways
and hit each other with sticks
where does that leave me
alone in a room
calous of existence
and all the rhymes it plays on life
and the life found between
the meter