The Fuzz*

The Beard:
An uber-trend of men.
A kind of Velcro alien…
This growth of pride upon the chin
May well conceal what’s deep within,
Projecting an image of pomp and pride
In which complexities reside,
The safety behind hirsute aesthetics
Assisting the hairless to feel pathetic.
It seems to me that all the best creatures
Have elegant whiskers as their best features,
Though just to be clear, I’d exclude those gents
Whose facial hair seems sure to prevent
Any potential for intimate contact,
Falling not far short of a coconut mat…
No matter how fine the barber’s skill,
The excess fuzz entices still
A curious range of decoration,
Inviting cosmetic innovation…
Passively acquiring scientific samples,
As accurate, catalogued examples
Of twenty-first century civic detritus,
A subject repulsive to most of us…
More frequently women, I’ll dare to suggest,
Fearful of the unruly, abrasive chin-pest
And all it secretes by way of detritus-
More than enough to feel contagious…
(Is that assertion a little outrageous…?)
So, with due sense of trepidation
May I, on this one occasion,
Be so bold as to commend
A regular health regime
For your errant chin-friend?
There’s a sinful richness of products to refine,
To trim, smooth, gloss and positively shine:
A catalogue of wonder in a growing market place
Expressly developed to maintain the male face.
A little bit of luxury will make a world of difference,
Hinting at seduction
In preference to offence…


*For Gerard- Happy Beardday!



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