As boyhood stumbles to manhood
As questions stagger to how
The role of our own little quest
Is rolled into here and now
The fumble and grope of the past
To a touch, delicate and fine
Takes us all off in a direction
As we walk the amorous line
Imagine what we thought we’d be doing
As we bashed a ball against wall
Arched back, sweat and lust loathing
Bulbous rise precedes flaccid fall
In those days when a boy was a boy
And the only desire independence to think
I never imagined I would get so much pleasure
From these days of kissing the pink.