unabashedly dole out unadulterated
indirect flattery to a porcelain moon goddess.
I found myself figuratively
falling head over heels
inexplicably, cuz courtesy the website
Prose | A virtual community
of readers and writers,
an attractively enchanting female participant
unwittingly, unsuspectingly and unknowingly
triggered the writer
of these words to become beguiled
and emblazon the sentence
mein kampf and hard times
(ambiguous coded message)
to further an electronic exchange
of mutually assured emotional construction
inadvertently, inextricably, and inordinately
bending, forging, and nudging our lives to coincide
with a mutually profound realm
of hidden cerebrally orgasmic treasure,
not unlike an archeologist
accidentally stumbling upon a rare discovery
of unknown persons
(recording stone age arousal
of fondling buttucks of babe in the woods),
who trod across the terra firma
when Homo sapiens
merely consisted of scattered and vulnerable tribes
analogous to any other animal
seeking basic instinct
for ultimate procreation of race
likened to the Gibbs brothers
titled song Stayin' Alive
courtesy survival of the fittest.
Hopefully herewith a genuine amorous proposition
as the modus operandi
to reciprocate thru cyberspace
will at the least provoke a mild chuckle,
whereby I can envision upturned smile on her face
imagining definite essence of beauty to interlace
slender fingers, while I best dismiss rash fantasy
of any substantial tactile expressions of affection
simply predicated upon infatuation
grown from approximately
a half dozen positive acknowledgements
expressing pleasure at reading my postings,
whence immediate and uncontrollable lust
burst forth like a giant fountainhead
a minor inconvenience Atlas shrugged
toward a lovely specimen of the fairer sex,
which faux pas will most likely
seal fate against further discourse,
nevertheless sentiments spill forth unbridled
blindingly, and sheepishly guiding me toward
a veritable stranger, though if these eyes
chanced to be blessed
with even a single cursory glance,
no doubt she would look -
obvious dissimilar constituting a generic gal
cuz espied genuine
incorporeal karmic manifestation
would immediately exhibit
the epitome of elegance and good taste
though already penultimate
consummation of actual intercourse doth outpace
rhyme or reason, and logical positivism
dictating ditching broadcasting assiduous fantasy,
plus such juvenile premature ejaculations
(unsuitable to a casual
boyish looking sexagenarian),
who like a fool rushes off,
where angels fear to tread
expressing amorousness, cuz downplaying the necessity
of erecting respectable
initial trusting platonic friendship
and preliminary stages of casual familiarity
reinforcing initial intuition
nullified thru the Internet,
which mecca for social media platforms
dispenses with conventional established paradigm,
and promulgates instant gratification
blindsiding rational behavior
aptly crafted with the storied novel
by the late writer Tom Wolfe
when he coined the phrase
"Old rotten Gotham
sinking/slinking into the behavioral sink"
a metaphorical phrase
that describes the city of Gotham
(from Batman comics)
as being in a state of extreme
social decay and decline,
where overpopulation, stress,
and lack of resources leading to widespread
societal breakdown and dysfunctional behavior,
much like the concept of a "behavioral sink"
observed in animal studies
where overcrowding causes
erratic and destructive behaviors.
My humblest apology for scattershot thoughts,
cuz I quickly dashed off the above
cuz the missus wants time on our only laptop,
a MacBook Pro (Retina, 15-inch, Mid 2015).