Roll the credits,
start the show,
here comes the expression
of all our worldly whims and woes.
On the silver screen therein resides,
the true heart of our genus;
far removed from the lies beguiling our children.
James Bond offers us the lesson,
that behind every domesticated aspect,
is a beast, a warrior,
ready to loose his wild visage;
and that the love of a man belongs to a woman,
hot and easy,
ready and willing,
to give up her goodies
and then die conveniently,
lest the super-agent
should trade his PPK
for a diaper purse.
In a twilight haze materialized,
a vision both clear and patent;
that of woman and her libidinous side
and how her loins peak to an erogenous brink,
at the prospect of dual hard-bodied suitor slaves.
Let's not kid,
or even belie,
it is lust that best commands the eye.
It is in these abiding themes,
wherein lies the truth,
behind all our wishes
and all our hopes.
Apparently, sex and violence
make for the perfect coupling;
a desired enviroment.
Women want to mate with a contradiction;
a patriarch, tough like a man,
who strangely emotes with the sensibilities of a woman;
and men, likewise, covet a woman,
dainty as a wisp,
who can throw down with the best of them
and at the end of the day,
still wash his clothes,
just like mommy did.
The art of life,
in the books, the films,
that compel the lot of us;
one, being like the other,
their dough rises by a similar mixture:
add some drama over lots of laughs,
a pinch of intrigue
and plenty of romance,
and of course above all,
the catalyst being,
conflict to drive up the plot like yeast.