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Hardik Vaidya

(26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

Sex in my city.

From Home to office.
On the sea link.
No one is looking, break all the rulings.
Speed limit is 50? Press the pedal go at 150.
Get on and move, get into the groove.
I whispered, aren't you watching?
Smirked, smiled, winked.
Stop thinking with your frustrated flute
Go and get a perspective to your poetic muse
Hare Rama Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare hare.
On worli sea face.
Red signal, I stop.
Guys at my right and left sped on.
Then one on my hind, shouts loud.
What's the matter, thick headed trout.
She is waiting to cross.
Made servant, not that hot chick jogging
What's the matter with you, get your balls rolling
Hare Rama Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Hare Hare.
On Peddar Road.
All stop when red.
No ones watching.
No ones crossing.
I look bewildered.
They whisper.
This is where the Gods live.
This is where the rules are made.
This is where they bed the mades.
This is where they rule the roost.
That is why you hold your juice.
Wait for it to turn green.
Green was always on with a black back.
Greenback the sexiest lass.
From here till kingdom comes
She presses your pedal and you provide her fun
Hare Rama Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare.

Submitted: Wednesday, January 30, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Sex is always between the ears. In Mumbai a lot goes on between the ears and this is only a small segment of it. Therefore in Mumbai People are so sexed up that by the time it comes to ding dong, most go ping pong. Exhausted by hyperdrive of sex in their city.

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