Old as testosterone is a desire to score… fist pumps and high fives for baseballs hit beyond a fence or pucks into a net. Old as testosterone is a desire to bond… where players hug or belly bump…butt smack or win team smash. Old as testosterone is that desire to win with degree that terrifies… street games to gangs or computer games to drones or football games to war.
Though hardly in the haiku realm it fits the three-line style to write image… add emotion…insight… count syllables. And we have expectations that the thought be fair and true. Here we may well question Charlie’s frame of mind. Perhaps he’s just a happy soul who lives a trusting life. I lived in the South. “She’s such a sweet thing,” was not a compliment. Charlie is a fool. Bonnie Marshall