I wiped off my lipstick so as to slip in here mostly unnoticed...

Feeling the pangs of love lost so eloquently expressed ("We thought the painting would not dry but the laquer tears had covered," sigh), and finding the thread meandering into my astronomical (in the literal sense of the word) wheelhouse, I am breaking a a self-imposed rule to not only enter this cogently populated pub but to squeeze a momentary spot at the bar.

The chances that life is out there looks good, though what we will probably find is more likely to give you a cold than a conversation. A nerdy type in a sparse university alcove calculated that there could be 500 billion planets just in the Milky Way alone that could be habitable.

As for this little blue ball, we are a hopelessly wasteful, inefficient, overly-reproductive - and filthy to boot. Nature tends to have little patience for species that run out of resources. In the big picture, there is plenty of time for Mother Nature to send us to the scrap heap of extinct species, scrub up the place and evolve another that will be more successful...

...one in which the best remnants of our DNA will make it through the next sorting so that a compelling sci-fi story, a pretty melody, or a bittersweet poem still stirs the fires of living. Of all the things that make it through those combinations of bases that make up the rungs of the double helix for this post human species, wouldn't it be a shame to lose love and humo(u)r?

Ah, but the clock complains that I have overstayed my welcome, so with an anticipated, "Get your coat!" I will, head bowed, sashay right on out of here past Sweetie Pie who is better at lifting the spirits 'round here. Thank you for the drink, gentlemen .

I was harangued some time ago by a very attractive and charming lady that I just was mesmerized by and was led down the garden path - I won't bore you with the entire tale but my regularly followers may recognize it - however her is the final stanza

she purred "be still my darling -I'll fix you"
soon get back the wind in ya sails
I must truly confess I was not feeling my best
and my reasoning power had failed

and then if struck by some lightning
a thunderbolt pursed through my veins
my eyeballs did spin - I felt like 'heavenly sin'
I thought is this pleasure or pain?

I closed up my eyes in exhaustion
it seemed for a minute or two
but when I awoke the morning had broke
and the 'albatross' flown the coup

ps: the albatross being the lady in question

© gumbud