poetry

Ten Ways to Get in my Pants

One, grow some beard and sport a man bun

For I am fond of hair,  but when under Sec. 377,

I am no felon

 

Two, give it time, for things to brew

It won’t happen in a flash, you are not super glue

It’s real life, not a film that is blue

 

Three, show me some emotion, at least one more than a tree

You may like it, but do not go on a spree

Or do but don’t flaunt it, it’s not a royal decree

 

Four, take me to the seashore

Tell me stories, don’t be a bore

Respect all women,  label no-one a whore

 

Five, don’t ever ask me if I prefer to walk or a drive

Any psychoanalysis for my answer, don’t you derive

It’s my body, not your race track for test drive

 

Six, darling be accessible within three clicks

Don’t flood my phone with your dick pics

 

Seven, darling, fly me to heaven

No PDA darling, don’t even

For the Moral Sena will parade us,

in front of the Raj Bhavan

 

Eight, trust the process darling, wait

When the time is right, it will happen, mate,

And no means no, get that straight

 

Nine, let’s first meet for some wine and dine

Let me see if you are really a man so fine

Tell me your idea of sex, let me see you define

 

Ten, darling wed me first and then

It’s pre-marital and I am a maiden

Getting in my pants may piss off random countrymen

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Ten Ways to Get in my Pants”

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