After the Collision

Men reveal themselves through different follies:
Trying to reduce their growing middles
Frying pancakes on their non-stick griddles,
Sneaking rides unpaid on public trolleys,
Claiming their own verse Sir Walter Raleigh's,
Thinking they have mastered both bass fiddles
And the telling of bad jokes and riddles,
While defaming sheep and English collies.

If my brain, deluded and divided,
Seems calm, then you wouldn't have impressed me
With your perspicacity, outguessed me
Or been cool when we and Mars collided.
Now that all this empty talk's subsided,
I'm prepared for any old thing. Test me!