One Day in Pamplona
A narrative poem
We rolled into Pamplona
in our rented Opel
the night before El encierro
and the start of the festival of San Fermín
The town was all atwitter
for tomorrow was the first day
of the running of the bulls
and the running for your life
We got there too late the next morning
as we were too far up the queue
to not be blocked off
by the retaining gates meant to stem the sum of revelers
Fate must have been on our side that day
as a young man from the States had an unfortunately bad run
and was paralyzed after an encounter
with one of the 1,200-pound black beasts from hell
As tragic as it was, we did not stray from our plan
and showed up bright and early the next day
to take our place in the long throng of runners
resplendently dressed in all white (except for the requisite red scarf )
The first enormous bottle rocket
went off on schedule at 8 a.m.
signaling that the six bulls had been…
