Leventado
He hesitates outside Harry’s; contemplates

an absinthe? a martini? no matter

what matters is the girl making a slow

pass across thwe room, her full, red

skirt trailing behind her.

She has the tight sprung look of a young boy,

wears pride like a pagan virtue.

He is almost afraid of her.
Parado
So he’s playing it cool, strides in, sits

on his usual stool, keeping his back to her.

Then, just as he swallows his second drink,

he feels something sharp prick the back of his neck

as if twin insects have bitten deep into the soft, soft

flesh — he orders another — turns to see her,

standing quite still, staring. Her eyes sharp

as steel-tipped banderillos.
Aplomado
But he’s safe, propped up against the cushioned

leather of the bar, glass in hand, this must

be his fourth, straight down the hatch, he grins,

almost boyish, shirt open at the neck,

knees apart, heels hooked like anchors to the stool,

he’s no fool, he’ll easily out Bogart her Bacall,

he’s had more women than she’s had …

She smiles, raises her glass to him.
Courages travels the short distance

from his head to his heart. He stumbles

toward her. Still smiling, she moves in for the kill.