The hot thin soup did boil and spew
The day I first encountered you;
You were a protein molecule
Adrift in that primeval pool.
As fate would have it, so was I—
But sad to say, a little shy.
So when you plied your proto-wink
I lost my cool—I couldn’t think—
I stammered out a crude, “Hey, hey—
Wanna make a little DNA?”
I guess you craved more subtle craft
In the Art of Love—you laughed.
I blushed and fled; I’d sadly seen us
Lose all the chemistry between us.
My blundering, full-bore attack
Set evolution eons back.
From then, to you, I was your brother.
Eventually, you got another,
And cleaved to him as proto-wife:
You began a stunning chain of life.
By leaps and bounds you raised your station
You’re now the basis of Creation—
You’re part of everything from plank-
Ton to the owner of a bank.
I haven’t changed—no, not at all:
A bachelor free radical.
But still our paths must always cross—
Yet I’m no longer at a loss;
For know I know just what to do—
I know just how to get to you!
It’s true—it doesn’t slake my lust,
But now you notice me—you must!
It has been shown (please check your rage)
Free radicals bring on old age.
That tiny wrinkle near your eye?
That’s simply me just saying, “Hi!” —Andy Senior (in pre-history)