Having Her Cake
Macho muscle moving in time
To the rhythm and roll of the drums
Big chests and thighs
Come to bed eyes
And tempting tanned little bums.
Loving themselves, loving the looks
of lust from their wet-knickered fans
They stride on the stage
The hormones rage
Greek gods with their muscles and tans.
'I bet they're arrogant bastards' she says
'The type that would love you and leave,
Give me a New Man any day'
As she sighs and her breasts start to heave.
We all want a man who will share in the work
Who will clean out the loo and make tea.
But give her the chance to share more than a dance
With a Chuppendale or three.
Copyright © Alison Dey | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment