Okay – it’s time / get me Brosnan on the line / tell him the whole goddamn volcano’s about to blow / and he’s the sexy scientist in the know / with a fabulous balance of intellect and machismo / a Phi Beta Kappa Geo Joe / a denim jean / sex and seismology machine / with biteable ears and a brain between / his smile’ll make your knees knock / your heart stop / your panties drop / and when he bites his lips / and cutely quips / you’ll blow your chips / and fall to the floor in a fabulous fumbling squall of hand slips / sorry… land slips…

I digress /  this goddamn poem’s a mess / get me a professor / the kind of snake-hipped, well-equipped love confessor / an expert on rocks and an expert kisser / checking the readout while checking the mirror / a colossal fossil fact giver / who’ll make your flint glint and your shale shiver / the kind of / deep and sexy mine mind / you only meet from time to time / someone preppily predisposed / to make you loosen all your clothes  / who has the cutest wrinkling of the nose / whenever he talks about pyroclastic flows…

Damn you, Brosnan!