Picasso Self-Portrait, 1943
There is a short story
by that Russian master Gogol
about a nose that goes missing
and how its patron comes to reclaim it
a rollicking account in which the lost nose is a metaphor
for pompousness and sycophantism.
I am drawn to noses
They are the first body part
that I check out when I meet a person
I know this sounds presumptuous
why should I feel that a nose
reveals a person for what he or she is or wants to be?
I claim no innocence in this propos.
I like strong noses
The ones you feel you can ski off
that they might be out of proportion
raises no flags with me
a nose is a nose is a nose
That said, I would not like to have three
nor even two.
however enamoured I am,
of this protrusion in a face’s middle
but give me a strong one any day
even if it disarms, dislegs or disears me.
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