Big Wig Pub...Chaotic Funny Rub Poem by saadat tahir

Damn the skirt that had me fell.
Never drool at bawdy damsels,
have a way with magic spells.
Turn you topsy and do pell-mell.
Darn, twisted foot that had me bent.
Showed my behind, a strategic rent.
Blithely swaying, her hand she lent.
In a hoarse report my airs were vent.
Poof! She mocked'n touched her lips.
Shifted weight to jiggle her hips.
Looked I up in an awkward gaze.
Allowed my self a feigned daze.
Hush I gawked at the straining zips.
Torso taut and wow! Jutting tips.
Saw me feast and tossed her head.
Woosh! There went, a tangle of red.
Silence fell as everyone looked.
Oh me gosh, now she's booked.
Mere stubble, on a balding crop.
Without her wig, what a flop!
Devious eyed, I eased my ‘self'
So did, all the gnomes and elf!
By this time, the crowd was near.
Shifty eyes now showed her fear.
Amid loud hoots and raunchy jeers.
Leather boots and bubbling beers.
Woe be gone and half in tears.
Stomped her feet and showed her rear.

(Islamabad)
(Vintage 1996…from files)