nipple me this

by Patrick Johnston

Throughout history, learned men knew, or assumed, or based upon the first principles of knowledge and logic that He came Before her. That He was the basic model, so to speak, the pinnacle of perfection, of which She was an imperfect amendment.

Oh, impressive, no doubt, in her way, in her capacity to gestate and lactate, and cook and clean, and take up the majority of the emotional burden. But. Nevertheless. Inferior to the Male on which she was spare rib modelled.

But the question pokes like an omphalos, that Adam did or didn’t have, that God by extension, did or didn’t have…

In Ancient times, Alexander’s armour, was adorned, we are told, with bronzen nubbins to replicate his manly flesh, and Modern Marvels maintain this tradition of manliness, ensuite.

In olden Celtic lands, in ritual preparation of the men they sent in sacrifice to their watery bog graves… why did they first, with brutal blades, remove their nipples?

A king cannot provide succour to his people without nipples. A king cannot rule with nipples…

Well. Nipple me this… what the fuck was he doing with nipples in the first place?

Photo of Patrick Johnston

BIO: Patrick Johnston is an Anglo-Australian writer and former neuroscientist whose work merges intellect, dark humour, and lyric absurdity. His poetry and hybrid nonfiction have appeared or are forthcoming in Argyle Literary Magazine, Love and Literature, Roe River Review, and The Louisville Review. He is a 2025 Pushcart Prize nominee and the author of the novel The Gaps Between the Stories.