Repossession: “El Toro”
“I always check the pockets, we all like to journey over silk. I’m less fond of satin though – velveteen bilk.
Lining is so important, it’s really the soul of the garment; that’s where the tag is – shame or pride dormant.
I check purses too, the crevices in their coin pockets. You never know what lies between cushions and in lockets.
Like a narc or Nazi, I check orifices too; thoroughness is essential to the soul of what I do. Indeed, I consider it my sanctity – I never miss a trick; after all, I gave Eve the idea but let her take her pick.
It never changes though – the temptation – yours or mine: for you, it’s greed, for me, human folly divine.
You’re so very predictable, but then so am I; it’s justice that is the wild card – the way truth finds its lie. But that’s not my concern, I’m merely here to collect; the nuances of sin are factors I never dissect, not any more, too much effort – isn’t that the way? We all want something for nothing – except a Judgment Day.
The irony is that sin is exhausting, damned hard work – I should know! No matter how Mephisto’s waltz begins it ends in tenser tempo. And then begins again … The world is always bursting with matadors all eager for a charge, and Wall Street’s narrow length makes a perfect funeral barge, with a church at its foot opposite my cape facing; it’s all a matter of direction, that and pacing.
Ver llegar, the Spanish say: to look the bull in the eye, but the bull’s horns and hooves are mine – symbols never die.
Come along, my friend, come along, the Harvard Club won’t miss you; most you know are facing the heat, waiting to run up and kiss you.”
– Mary Jo Magar –