Just a little unpretentious punctuation, to express my aversion to religions in general, and Catholicism in particular, which I know best for having practised it, not long but long enough.
As a kid, I wanted to be Pope. I wanted to call myself Innocent XIII. The problem was, there had already been one. I said: " No matter, I'll take Innocent XIII the Second."
Some Christians have had the privilege to approach the Pope; some kissed his feet, and they still feel overwhelmed.
Popes' feet don't smell. Popes don't wear socks.
They are barefoot in their open toe sandals; the air circulates, the skin breathes.
However, Popes' feet smell of shit, on account of the fact that they're always looking up, towards God, who never warns them, for those are the only moments when Our Father indulges in a smile.
Three verses.
Three chapters in the life of a couple.
1 - The wonder.
2 - The routine.
3 - The exhaustion.
Intermediate chapters sometimes appear in the story, and they can be fanciful or moving, or both. When for instance, we realise that routine is nearing, we make tremendous efforts to imagine extraordinary things to keep it at bay, to rekindle the flame. Routine will just have to go back home, reconsider its simplistic theories and prepare a more imaginative plan of action.
