Beyond Balls

“You’ve got Balls.”
Cajones. A show of Testicular Fortitude.
How can something so squishy-soft be taken as a symbol of courage?
They’re practically handing out medals (pendulous ones, I’m sure)
for the dude with the biggest balls. Sometimes to ladies.
But, let’s be honest, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.
It’s also just a wee bit (100%) gender specific.
Even beyond the casual sexism, what the fuck?
The metaphor is lost on me.
I have balls (shocking!) and they are hardly the source
of my… balls – when I’m feeling ballsy.
They sort of need protecting, like
scared little twins playing head-buttsies all day without helmets.
Probably would be brain damaged.
At the first sign of danger they huddle together and try to hide.
When it’s cold or they’re too long in the water they cuddle for warmth,
and they shrink. They actually get smaller. Or at least tuck themselves in.
Not the dudes I’d vote for to lead an arctic expedition,
or even pick first to play ball.
Is having balls (metaphorically), brave because guys
do stupid shit despite their weak-spot dangling freely below?
Am I some kind of bad guy from Legend of Zelda?
That’s fucking stupid.
I worry about my balls, as I’m sure many of my testicled brethren do.
They aren’t brave. They don’t inspire me with their valor.
They’re actually kind of weird-looking.
If something happens to them, they HURT, and I
become far less likely to be ballsy for some time.
The word works much better as an expletive
when something shitty happens
like being kicked in the balls.
Can’t we come up with something better?

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