Downfall of Man

She was sitting in the corner of the room,
that’s when my eyes zoomed,
flashed, focused,
adjusted contrast, at last
the center of my attention.
I had no intentions,
just ached for a conversational direction.
What should I ask or say?
Possibly inquire about her profession?
I was over-guessin’…
Brain connections, over-analyzing
by dissection of the situation
at millions of thoughts per second.

To no objection,
my decision was clear…
Aggression, the only means of progression
to make some sort of impression.
So I took stand as a man,
scratched any preconceived plans,
then proceeded to that foreign land
to answer any doubts, and maybe join hands?

This goddess was GRAND.
Her aura melted my eyes away,
flipped them into the back of my head,
with her array of display.
Optical overload by her visual buffet.
Through those eyes I didn’t see stars,
instead the Milky Way.
Lost in a galaxy of disarray…
(Thank GOD I’m not gay.)
So I walked her way,
Thinking…. Rejection?
Nahhh, Not today.

The possibilities are endless,
I was freakishly restless,
by flashbacks of my adolescence
hoping for a daytime phone number
and address..
But all I really wanted was a chance,
at romance, dates to McDonalds,
trips to France in magazine ads,
at different ways to exercise our abs.
So I took a stab.
Approached her and said, enjoying the view?
Then quite abruptly, some dude
came out of the blue,
sat down and said… excuse me, who are you?

Damn. Long Island… Round 2.

Written by A.A. (circa 2000)



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