so there's this gal, and she's doing a movie review, and she sees all the biblical allegory, imagery, whatever it is she sees: mother earth, big bang, forbidden fruit... i guess the bible really is a visually stunning book... i'd try to do the same justice to the koran, but there's so little to imagine from the skeletal form of the written word... it's basically iblis  (the devil) saying ******* to god, and moving to japan, while saying: lookie 'ere, they're all bowing to each other, might as well asked me politely to respect adam, by giving him a high five, or a handshake.

after a while a beard stops feeling itchy,
and becomes less ***** harsh...
   and after a while you sense something -
and that sensing of "something"
is actually: nostalgia of a razor blade;
god i miss shaving.
               for the men who abhor shaving,
let me tell you: grow a beard, keep it
for a year, you'll naturally gravitate to
an itchiness at the end of your fingers:
****** let me shave, ****** let me shave,
get this ****** off my face!
      weird though, the moment your
****** peacock explosion fades out of
itchiness, your scalp starts itching,
and it's not the itchiness as:
precursor of the light-bulb moment...
it's just itchy... oi! sioux! scalp duties!
     but shaving is the caviar moment on
a man's face,
  it's a delicacy, hence the barber shop and
the antiquated *brzytwa moment (razor);
but there are others,
   a kiss that leaves a lipstick imprint
on the cheek,
   a pumped up plum punch tattoo...
the pincer nibbling of the cold -
        and, mind you, i've tested it -
punch yourself 10 / 20 times repeatedly...
it will still not ache,
unlike being slapped by a woman...
you can punch yourself into a make-up
of a clown, but a single slap on the face
by a woman who "thought" you were cheating
(women are too complicated to
entertain doubt, hence they are too complicated
to think) -
             that's not a disrespect,
   but in the english language is simple -
there are is no gender neutrality outside the realm
of inanimate things...
   unless you're french, or polish,
where there are gender ascriptive forms of
calling a chair a he -
       well, the sun is definitely a she,
and the moon is definitely a he...
   that much i know -
         then again: earth is gender neutral,
a ******* ****** or something...
you can't have this fantasy of an x-men movie
prologue where you mutate / transcend
the rigidity of grammatical rules...
      what you get is what you already have...
a half baked bun,
                     and let me tell you,
semi-raw dough is not exactly the delicacy
of sushi (or a steak tartar)...
                 i drink and i remember...
the slap of hers was worse than a punch by
my own hand... then again: that's the dynamics
of diving into a swimming pool...
            a woman slaps your face? a belly flop.
you punch yourself in the face?
that whole allegory of:
  if a woman in high heels steps on you,
it'll hurt more than if an elephant did, likewise.
god i miss having a shave,
    but then again, last time i went to
the barber - i says to her:
     i forgot how relaxing having a haircut is...
become celibate for a while,
   and your over nerve endings get a caffeine
booster of added sensitivity.