The Case of the Eternal Adolescents

The Hardy boys never had sex
Never produced progeny to perpetuate the detective family dynasty
No junior detectives carrying on the family tradition
Frank and Joe’s lasting fame only the tales
Of two young men trapped in their teenage virginity
Wasting their exploratory years solving crimes
When they should have been investigating heavy petting
Trying to round the bases rather than constantly worrying
About truth, justice, and the American way
More energy directed to speculating why it is
They might be attracted to a particular girl
Who bites a french fries in a stimulating way
Every time she sits across from then at the malt shop
Imagine while they sip their cheery Cokes
Slapping on the cuffs, maybe a threesome
Like they may have read about in their dad’s extensive library
And they see themselves afterward in the dark
The woman they now know they love breathing softly
Lying between the two boys-to-men smoking Lucky Strikes
Blowing contemplative rings at a shadowy ceiling
Whispering normal teenage nothings
About anything other than clues in a current case
Then watch her dress and turn the knob
Ask her if she knows how to whistle
Encourage her to put her lips together and blow
Do a synchronized wolf whistle after the door is closed
Glance at each other while in this vision
Sucking on their straws and wondering why
It took so long for the two to finally see each other naked
Never having even showered together through all the pages of their lives
Return their attention to the mystery woman
Watch her dip the tip of her fry in ketchup
Wrap her lips around it and smile
The two sleuths unable to read the clues well enough
To decide if it’s that she loves them