Remember when we all
pushed out of Africa
on our first road trip:
clubbing our enemies
and hunting great beasts
like there was no tomorrow.
A man could chow down
on a mighty big steak then
with no need for excuses.
Remember those nights
filled with thunderous rhythms:
one part tribal foreplay,
two parts fear making music.
And the women, oh man,
teeth and claws and ferocity,
sweaty species making,
scarifying intensity.
We had mighty times
tracking down that road.
The world smelt different
when there were places
we were yet to see.
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