little ***** and rings
of metal move
as he talks

three studs,
on his eyebrow
wander like a slugish
overfull caterpillar

the bullring ring in his nose,
condenses with each breath
of the frigid  winter morn

and his earlobes swing and dangle
with blocks and spheres
of a dark wood like substance

I ask him, does that hurt,
he deigns not to answer.....

We get on with the matter
at hand, his idea for a thesis;
with regard to dramatic reflection
in Shakespearean adaptations

He speaks of Othello, Richard III
and Romeo and Juliet....
the use of water, sunglasses and mirrors

I ask if he believes there is 70000+ words
in his exploration of reflection....
all the time watching the metal caterpillar
try to escape the forest of his eyebrow....

He sighs, and the bullring mists over
the ears lobes waggle and waft around.
He states not really sure......but he likes the idea
I send him off to look for other plays
Shakespearean or not that he could include
in this work.....and to come back in a month
with a precis and chapter plan....

He leaves, shoulders slumped, muttering
and I think....I may have added  one more peircing
to his intellectual life