Actual posting date
in memory of X
who escaped from Idi Amin
then had to be chemically castrated
She-devil magic wiggles wobble-orb
of siren-cleft, thus shaping heady dream.
This dimple-flesh all reasoning absorbs,
then finding bristle-mound hear loathing scream.
Around I pray for counsel and advice
on staying wayward thought or wilful hand,
but only rate some pill and jab device.
Flaunt-maids entice then quacks don't understand.
Do women dress to promise or deny?
Are medics meant to gag us or to cure?
Our purdah-girls go by with downcast eye,
dull robes bedim the glare of their allure;
but bimboes bray-out, "See – forbidden thrill,"
and they, or drugs, control my very will.