The Man Who Loves dresses

There is a strange man who confesses

To a wanton penchant for new dresses

He walks through the aisles

With his face lit in smile

As against them he gently presses

 

All of the while on the hanger

They breeze in material languor

While the man in his fever

Grows a magical lever

And unhooks them in turn with his wanger

 

So through the stores runs amok

With a languorous dress on his c**k

The man who loves girls

Spinning perpetual twirls

In a freshly acquired new frock  

 

 

 

Reviews

[SHEEMA HUQ]

this poem just made me laugh....!! very well done