A Rambling Thought About the Meaning of Life

A Rambling Thought About the Meaning of Life                                September 12, 2009

Something in me roars like a lion
And lashes out like a tiger
With a mere scent or taste of the air
Whenever I am close by you.
I watch you read that book
And I sweat buckets,
Something like the Amazon, no?
Perhaps it's my deviant mind that leads me,
That I don't know what I really am,
Whether I am man or beast,
Or something more, like a god,
With his vixen of the moment lined up.
The thing is, you see, 
Is that you're not simply of the moment.
Lovely day it is on the ol' college campus.
The boys in Orange kick off at noon.

I feel like I have Parkinson's or something.
I mean, let's face it: 
You are a completely different kind of beauty.
Your smile graces each soul in passing,
Your blue eyes make hearts melt,
Or in my case, rip its way through my ribs
Looking for its next meal.
I don't really know the difference between love or lust;
Both are filled with carnal sensations
Felt for members of the fairer sex. 
I have a penis, while you have a vagina,
And lust is often accompanied by the little line:
"We're just making love whenever we please."
And that we would,
Whenever we please -
Whenever we damn well please.

I sit here and write of you
Knowing full well that that's counterproductive.
I don't know about love or lust,
But there's something there,
Because my Adam's Apple grows at all times.
My mouth waters with fantasies of something tasty.
I reckon you are supposed to be lunch du jour.
All this learning and all the book smarts
Get me no where in this little game.
I suppose that I should whistle a tune
And get with the program.
I must realize that this silly crush 
Is a flirtation in the making.
I must be brave in resolution
And prepared for the best, or the worst.
Whatever. It, or something, is going to happen.
Let the attack begin.